Beneath The Surface
by SiriuslyUnreal
Summary: Sirius left England after Peter was chosen by James and Lily as secret keeper leading them to their death. With a dark history and episodes of memory loss, 17 years later, he finds himself back in England, facing a war on multiple fronts. Warnings: Spoilers up to DH. Canon-Based AU. Slash SBRL (past), SBHP (main). Previously posted as Love Lies Bleeding, major reedits.
1. Between the Bars

Sirius breathes and it's hard in the thickness of heavy air of early summer. There's a storm coming deep black and menacing from across the horizon but everything is eerily still and silent, not a whisper of leaves or a movement of anything alive. At the edge of the lake he looks across the placid surface filled with an insane desperation for something to move amongst all the stillness. There is pain in his chest, deep and sharp, and he doesn't know why it's there.

He doesn't turn when his name is called softly behind him, thready with guilt and quiet apology. He cannot turn, his body, rooted to the spot, will not move at his own will. It is Remus behind him, he knows, by the sound of his voice and the weight of his footsteps, soft and sure coming nearer. In that moment he wishes it was someone else, anybody else. He isn't sure he can bear the dulcet tones of his friend, his lover.

"You have to understand, Sirius…" Remus is saying, and he is calm, so calm.

Sirius turns to face him, mid-sentence.

"…there is so much at stake here." The man's gentle words are softened further with heavy guilt and the should have been a spark of compassion in Sirius upon hearing them. But there is not, and Sirius feels like maybe there never will be again.

"At least we can all agree on that." His own voice is harsh and alien to him, the recoil is apparent on the other man's features. "Peter. Of course, because his loyalty isn't in question at all is it, Remus?"

Sirius looks at Remus, the man is worn and a few scars could be seen shining silver along his cheeks and jaw line. His brown hair shows grey in a few places, and the amber highlights in his eyes are all but gone due to the dark conflict clouding them now. But to Sirius, he is beautiful, always so beautiful.

"I would die myself before seeing any of you harmed." His voice echoes in his head, the anguish in the words echoing the pain in his chest, leaving it broken and jagged.

"Peter would, too." Remus says quietly but he won't look at Sirius.

Sirius shakes his head. "I hope you're right."

There is a silence, long and filled with accusations and words they'll never say. And there is something in Sirius, a voice in his head, that is screaming for him to do something to change this to stop it.

"What is worse about all of this…" Sirius says finally, letting out a deep and beaten sigh, "Is that after nearly 10 years of friendship, Remus, it seems like none of you ever really knew me at all."

And he closes his eyes to whatever is written on Remus' face only to open them to find Remus still. He's twelve—maybe thirteen, and he's nearly out of breath and jogging ahead of him. Sirius is running to keep up, without knowing it, his body following confused and uncertain. The muscles burn in his legs as they take the stairs up to the third floor. Remus pauses at the top and bends over, hands on his knees, taking a breath and looking to either side. He turns to face Sirius and smiles, that brilliant, wild smile and holds his hand out.

"Come on, follow me"

Sirius takes his hand and they run together, they turn a corner sharply and Sirius stops and he can't breathe and tears burn and blur is eyes. But there is green smoke and this house, this house that Sirius knows. And the exhaustion he feels deep in his bones, he knows, is from a long flight from India. He's too late, it was already too late when he word had reached him. There is destruction and silence and Sirius falls to his knees weeping. There is a hand on his shoulder and he shakes it off violently getting to his feet so quickly he staggers.

It is Remus again, Sirius' own pain reflected on his features.

"No!" Sirius' voice cracks like whip. _No, don't touch me. No, don't let this be real. _

Remus reaches out again and Sirius screams no words, just pain and betrayal and guilt.

He is still screaming when he wakes up. Covered in sweat and sitting upright, the first tendrils of a migraine reaching out from his temples. The aftershocks of the dream leaving him wrung out and edgy, the pain of the memories still radiating in his chest. He breathes heavy taking slow deep breaths.

For a moment he doesn't move, just breathes. And then he brings his hands to his face rubbing them over his eyes. He looks at the clock, it is just after 4AM. He steps out of bed onto shaky legs and makes his way to the kitchen in the dark. He pulls a bottle of firewhiskey from the shelf and leaning against the counter in the dark he uncorks it and takes a long drink. It burns enough to shake him back to reality. He closes his eyes and Remus' face swims in his vision. _No._ He takes another drink.

"Café au lait, veuillez." Sirius winks at the brunette behind the counter and smiles at her blush. He glances around him at the morning rush and listens in on the animated conversations in rapid French.

He waits for his order at the far end of the counter, when the young girl hands it to him he notices her name and telephone number scribbled on the side of the paper cup. "Merci, Marie. Au revoir."

Leaving the cafe he makes his way to his office, seemingly paying little attention to the world around him. But he notices the young girl to his right as she drops her teddy bear and her mother admonishes her as she stops to pick it up, he notices the official from the French Ministry of Magic who is guiltily smoking a muggle cigarette near the rubbish bin at his left. He notices everything, and yet none of them seem to notice him.

He stops at a street vendor who profits in both muggle and magical newspapers and magazines and purchases a copy of each of the major newspapers including the English-Daily Prophet, the headline blares at him but doesn't startle him the way things like that once did. His job has something to do with that, and so do distance and time.

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, he tried to imagine what it must be like to live in England at this moment. The headlines for the past several years has only gotten worse. Even in Paris they were talking of the way in which the English Ministry has fumbled things, and there was a great wave of support for Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter. _Harry Potter._

Sirius, however, is mostly ambivalent, he has been too far away from it for too long and he can no longer feel the shock of the turmoil that is rolling through his home country. The memories he still had were all so distant now, covered in the fine dust of bitterness and hidden away in a back cupboard of his mind and the rest of them were scattered fragments, malformed and only surfaced in dark and unwanted dreams.

He tucks the papers under his arm and continues down the street. As he stops at a traffic light, he smiles at the shiny muggle cars. He would never tire of them really. He thinks about his new Motorcycle, a Harley Davidson he'd had brought over from America. Beautiful machine. Perhaps, he would go riding tonight.

"Hello, Sirius." He expected it, had been waiting for it, but still that voice stings him and set his heart beating too fast.

Sirius takes a sip of his coffee and doesn't turn around. "I was wondering when you were planning on talking to me. I'm almost impressed that it only took you two blocks to work up the courage."

Sirius turns his head as Remus steps up to his right, smoothing down the front of his jacket.

They stand there in tense silence until the signal to walk blinks on and Sirius moves to cross the street briskly, unsurprisingly, Remus keeps up with him easily enough.

"You look good, Sirius." Remus says and Sirius hates that he has missed the sound of his voice.

"You look tense." He responds as he rounds the corner of the next block down an alley. He stops at what appears to be an employee entrance for a restaurant called "Catalina's", Sirius flips up a small metal covering to the right of the door and punches in his five-digit code on the keypad beneath it. The door swings open and they step into an elevator.

A disembodied female voice speaks. "Bonjour, Sirius Black. Vous avez un visiteur avec vous?" [Hello, Sirius Black. You have a visitor with you?]

"Oui. Remus Lupin. Numéro d'Identification sept-six quatre-trois-deux W R. Visite personnelle. Je vais accompagner."[Yes. Remus Lupin. Identification Number 76432WR. Personal Visit. I will accompany.] Sirius replies without looking at Remus.

"Remus Lupin. Veuillez prendre votre badge visiteur." [ Remus Lupin. Please take your visitor's badge.] The voice echoes in the small space.

When Remus doesn't move, Sirius glances over and finds the man staring at him.

"Remus, take the badge." Sirius points to the small slot at their right. After another moment, Remus moves quickly to collect the badge and clip it to his jacket.

The elevator moves in an undeterminable direction and Sirius can feel Remus' eyes still on him.

"What?" Sirius nearly shouts in frustration. Still a little on edge and having got very little sleep, Remus' presence has frayed the last of his patience.

"You remembered the number." Remus' voice is strangely flat.

"I was there when they burned it into your skin."

"Ministère des affaires internationales. Avoir une bonne journée." [Department of International Affairs. Have a good day.]. The voice echoes again as the elevator doors open.

Once again they are silent as Sirius leads them through a winding hallway past several offices, until they come to a door with a plaque that reads:

Sirius Black

Chef de Département [Head of Department]

Bureau d'Analyse Comportementale [Office of Behavioral Analysis]

Balancing, his papers and coffee and presses his hand to the plaque and the door swings open. He motions with a nod for Remus to pass and kicks the door closed behind them.

The office is a practice in organized chaos. For all that it is a large space, it is cluttered. At the far end of the room, bookcases run the length of the wall with hundreds of books stacked and shoved haphazardly upon their shelves. A large table sits in front of them, layered with maps and folders and boxes of case files are piled in two of the three chairs surrounding it.

The far right wall is covered with large maps of England, France, Germany, Spain and the United States. Red dots are scattered in various places across them, some moving, some stationary, some occasionally disappearing and reappearing in an entirely new area of the map. Each red dot has a tiny box following it with a name inside. Along the left wall are prison standard photographs with various notations and other papers surrounding them.

A large mahogany desk stands at the center with a high backed leather chair behind it. The desk it's self is surprisingly organized by comparison. A file bin stands in one corner filled near to overspilling with folders. A handful of envelopes and a single folder marked 'urgent' lay at the center of the desk. An expensive quill and ink set sits near the top behind a brass name place with Sirius' name and title. At the other end a single lamp flashes on as Sirius nears the desk.

Across from the desk are two matching leather armchairs and a small table between them. The only personal things in the office sit on this table. Two award plaques for outstanding service and a small jewelry box left open to display a stunning gold medal resting against the black velvet.

Sirius moves silently behind the desk and sets his coffee down. He leafs through the letters before opening the folder. Remus stands awkwardly next to one of the armchairs as Sirius reads. Sirius closes his eyes and tries to push through the frustration he feels as he reads.

Suddenly, he yells loudly startling Remus. "St. Clair!"

Within a moment a young man with thick glasses and a thin face bursts into the office.

"Oui, Monsieur Black. What can I do?" He speaks with a heavy French accent and his eyes are on Remus' back.

"I need you to take this over to Desmond and tell him I better have a report I can read within twenty-minutes." Sirius' tone is clipped and curt, but the man doesn't move, his eyes still locked on Remus' back. Sirius narrows his eyes and tosses the folder at the man. "Now, St. Clair. Do it now."

The young man scrambles to collect wayward pages and his brown hair flops on his forehead as he nods before quickly exiting.

"The door, St. Clair." Sirius calls after him and the door closes.

Remus is staring at the wall of maps now. Lifting a hand as if to touch it but doesn't. "You did it." He whispers. "You actually did it, just like our map."

"I did." Sirius looks at him struggling with the ache in his chest. "Took me ten years but eventually I figured it out."

Remus turns to him and there is a pride in his eyes that Sirius can't bear to see.

"Sit down, Remus. I imagine you want to have some sort of conversation."

Remus sits down in one of the chairs across from Sirius' desk. Sirius continues opening letters and reviewing their contents briefly. When Remus doesn't speak he sits down in his chair and folds his hands in front of him.

"Spit it out already, Remus." Remus shifts in his chair his eyes going back to the map on the wall.

"Dumbledore asked me to come, he wants to speak with you." Remus says at length.

"He could have come himself."

"He wants to be discreet." Remus raises a hand and rubs his chin.

"Of course." Sirius laughs, but it's bitter. "And I should just pack my bags and hop to it, I suppose?"

"Sirius…" Remus said meeting his eyes for the first time. "Things are worse than they say in the papers."

"I know." Sirius keeps his voice flat and his face unreadable. He watches pain flicker across Remus' features.

"Please, come talk to him." Remus' voice is tired and Sirius knew it was a no easy thing for the man be sitting here.

"There's nothing for me in England anymore, Remus." Sirius shakes his head.

"Harry is in England." Remus says quietly and Sirius can hear the unspoken _"and so am I"_

"Harry doesn't need me. That was made _perfectly_ clear." Sirius doesn't even try to hide the accusation in his tone.

Remus lets out a whoosh of air and leans forward in his chair. "Are you never going to forgive any of us or will our past sins forever be a barrier for the future?"

"For which? Casting me the traitor?" Sirius can feel the beginnings of his anger seeping out and forces himself to calm down. "It isn't _my_ forgiveness you should be looking for."

"Sirius, _please_." Remus reaches out placing his hands palm down at the edge of Sirius' desk. Sirius' eyes are drawn to those hands and he wishes for the first time that the softness of them was a memory that he no longer had.

"You were the one, Remus, who told me I should go—that Harry should go to his aunt and uncle in Surrey, that you needed space and time to heal or whatever the line was." Sirius stands and looks away from Remus.

"I never told you to leave the country."

"Yes well, better exiled than a pariah." Sirius replies stuffing his hands in his pockets, "The food is better here anyway."

There is a beat of silence and Sirius looks at Remus. He looks much older than he should, his hair more grey, new scars obvious on his arms and hands. His eyes are tormented and tired, his whole being seems dimly lit.

"You've done well for yourself." Remus offers off-handedly, but that was Remus, if all else fails make small talk.

Sirius looks back at him. "I've survived."

"We need your help, Sirius." Remus says carefully. "Do you even remember what it's like to be fighting for a cause anymore?"

"I never fought for anything but the people I loved." Sirius retorts bluntly.

"And now?" Remus is fishing, but Sirius can't tell if it's for Albus or himself that he asks.

"Now I fight for the people other people love." Sirius watches something change in the depths of those golden eyes and part of him wishes he knew what it was.

The door bangs open and St. Clair pokes his head in.

"Sir, we've just got a patronous from Marquis, seems they've been ambushed." The whole sentence is rushed out on one breath and Sirius looks to the map of England. Just outside of Leeds, Sirius watches a group of red dots, two of them disappear and then another.

"Send two teams to their location and have a couple of healers go with." Sirius barks out. "I want an update every fifteen minutes."

The man nods and leaves as quickly as he came closing the door with a bang.

"Look, I imagine you're staying in town. Come by my flat around nine or so this evening and we'll talk some more." Sirius says absently as he writes down his address on a bit of spare paper.

Remus takes the paper and leaves without another word. Sirius hardly notices as he turns to pull a few files from the table behind him.

Sirius pours himself another drink and stares around his flat. It is nothing special, a simple and underused space. Three rooms all cramped together and sparsely furnished. Sirius' eyes fall on the cabinet in the corner. For a moment he only looks at it. Carrying his drink over to it, he kneels and opens one of the drawers. Inside is a carefully catalogued file system for Sirius' life. All the things he had found, and researched back when he couldn't remember who he was.

He pulls out a thick folder and opens it in his lap. He takes another drink. The first thing he comes to is his Certificate of Completion for Hogwarts. Followed by various transcripts and records of grades and behavior. He remembered the letter he had gotten from Minerva when he had owled and requested she send him anything she could about his time at Hogwarts. He had explained why, she had responded with a carefully worded letter that attempted to hide her care and concern behind her trademark stoicism, along with a great deal of what the folder now held.

Then there were the pictures. The Marauders and Lily, the castle, other friends he had once known. So many things, so many faces, that were lost to him now in more ways than one. There was a photograph there of James and Lily's wedding, they looked so happy and blissfully carefree for the moment.

Closing the folder Sirius stands and puts it away, closing the drawer with more force than necessary. Walking across the room he sits at the table and lights the cigarette and refills his glass. It is three glasses and half the pack of cigarettes before a sharp knock at the door startles Sirius from his thoughts.

He's a little unsteady as he makes his way across the room. He pauses at the door, taking a breath and trying to steady himself a bit. When he opens it Remus is standing there looking utterly out of place and unwontedly beautiful. He stares at him for a minute, his fingers itching to touch him just to see if what he remembers is right, instead he pulls his gaze away and steps aside to let Remus in.

Once inside Sirius pours himself and Remus a drink and they sit together in silence at the table for a long time before Remus speaks.

"I'm sure you've heard about the goings-on. Quirrell and the stone, poor Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle's Diary, the Tri-Wizard Tournament and all that." Remus begins and Sirius only nods. "Things keep happening, things that we can't explain or prepare for. I fear, Sirius, that we are coming to the end of this war and it will be worse than we ever imagined."

Sirius takes another sip of firewhiskey. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I know that Albus needs your help." Remus said. "But…more than that…Harry seems lost. He has a mental link with Voldemort and all of the pressures of this war rest on his shoulders. He's just seventeen, Sirius."

"I don't see how I can help you with that. I don't know him." Sirius takes another long drink and kicks his feet up on the table. " I barely knew him back then. And he's a man grown by now."

"He is so very like James, Sirius, but he has his mother's heart and the burden of her compassion as well." Remus offers, his voice laced with sadness. "He needs someone who understands what it is like to fight everyday of you life for love you don't feel you deserve. To lose the people that matter most to you in the world."

Sirius looks away. "And why not you?"

Remus hesitates. "I am more the friendly uncle, I think. I taught him for a year at Hogwarts. The relationship is different, there are things he wouldn't dream of talking to me about. My worry is that he talks to no one. My greatest fear is that Harry will fall victim to this war in ways worse than death."

They settle again into a long silence. Their eyes locked and Sirius is drawn again to the familiarity of Remus' features, his expressions, his voice.

"I'll need some time to think, Remus."

Remus stands, leaving half his drink still in the glass and looks down at him. Sirius finishes the last of his glass and and stands too.

"Sirius, we're running out of time." He lifts a hand and places it on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius can feel the heat of his skin burning through his t-shirt. Their eyes lock and for a moment everything falls away leaving just the two of them and a handful of inches between them.

In the back of his mind, smothered by the alcohol Sirius' better self revolts and screams out warnings. But Sirius raises his hand and brushes a piece of hair from Remus' eyes.

"How is it that after sixteen years and when it looks like you haven't slept right in a week, that you can still be so damn beautiful." There is a shift of color in Remus skin and he closes his eyes. For the life of him, Sirius cannot remember what it is that has kept them apart for so long.

He knows he shouldn't, but all the things that were firm and unforgiving have softened just enough for him to brush them aside. And he grips the front of Remus' tattered sweatshirt and pulls him against his body.

Remus is breathing fast and when he tilts his head up to look at him Sirius' hand finds the back of his head and brings their lips together. Remus tastes like chocolate and firewhiskey and that flavor that is undeniably him and it is so familiar it causes an ache in Sirius' chest. Sirius' tongue presses for access and Remus relents and the kiss is hot and fierce and they stumble of few steps backward before breaking apart for a breath.

"Sirius…" Remus' voice is raspy and so quiet, Sirius can't decide if it's a plea or refusal.

He places is finger gently on Remus' lips. "Shh."

And he kisses him again.

Sirius can't feel his hands and there is a steady pain running the length of his shoulders and arms, the tips of his bare feet brush against rough concrete. He smells the musk of sweat and water-rotted wood intermixed with the rusty smell of dried blood. When he opens his eyes, he looks up to find himself hanging from exposed rafters. There are murmurs behind him and dark laughter.

The corners of the room are dark and in a circle of light his own shadow sways. From behind him comes a whispered word and then pain lights his body, every muscle contracting and singing with the effects of a curse. He can't breathe, his mind is washed with white and a trickle of blood trails down from his nose. Screams are ripped from his body wild and animalistic as his body jerks violently on the chain.

The impact as his body hits the floor jars him awake. He is tangled in the sheet and for a minute he doesn't move. He tries to replay the dream in his mind. It's new. He scrambles for the leather bound journal and pen that sit on his nightstand. Standing on unsteady legs, he pulls the string and the lamp sends light rushing across the room.

"Sirius?"

The voice startles him and he drops the journal and the pen rolls beneath the bed as Sirius stares at Remus who sits mother-naked, running his fingers through tousled hair.

"Shit."

The night comes back quickly in flashes of images and sounds. Sirius' skin heats and his head swims. He turns picking up his jeans from the floor and pulling them on. He doesn't bother looking for his shirt and makes his way to the bathroom without a word to Remus.

He splashes water on his face and stares into the mirror. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes. "Idiot."

He dries his face and makes his way to the kitchen grabbing the nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey from the table as he passes. He puts a pot on for coffee and takes a swig of firewhiskey before throwing the bottle with enough force to shatter it in the sink.

"Sirius." This time it's louder and tinged with regret. "Sirius, are you okay?"

Sirius looks at Remus who is now haphazardly dressed and wide awake. Merlin be-damned but Sirius' body responds. He looks away.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry."

The coffee finishes and Sirius pours a cup form himself and Remus.

They stand awkwardly in the small kitchen taking careful sips of the hot coffee.

"Sirius, last night…" Remus begins but his voice wavers and he doesn't finish his thought.

"Last night was a mistake." Sirius scalds his tongue as he takes a quick drink, "Tell Dumbledore I'll be there as soon as I am able to level things off at work."

Remus sets his cup on the counter and moves toward Sirius, placing a hand on his arm. "Sirius…we should talk…"

Sirius meets Remus' eyes. "Go home Remus."

Sirius makes himself watch the hurt swim in Remus' eyes before he turns away. Sirius is still standing in the kitchen when he hears the front door open and close. He follows the sound and collapses on the sofa in the living room. His eyes burn but the tears never come. He hasn't cried in years.

Drink up with me now

And forget all about the pressure of days

Do what I say and I'll make you okay

And drive them away

The images stuck in your head

The people you you've been before

That you don't want around around anymore

That push and shove and won't bend to your will

I'll keep them still

Soundtrack: Elliot Smith- Between the Bars


	2. Au Revoir

Sirius sat in an uncomfortable chair outside the office of the Head of the MLE. The secretary sat at her desk, a perky, blonde bundle of flirty nervousness. She had asked Sirius if he wanted coffee four times already. When the wide oak doors opened and a man came out with an armload of papers, Sirius stood a last smile and a wink toward the flustered secretary and made his way into Andre's office.

Andre stood looking out the large plate glass window now, his back to Sirius as he entered. The man was just beginning to show the signs of age at seventy-five and the grey was beginning to show in his short-cropped brown hair. Sirius could only imagine the things running through the man's mind at the moment, lost in thought as he was. Sirius knew the man well enough, to leave it alone. He was practically a historical figure at the Ministry. And he was of the old school, still believed policing was better done without the politics. Sirius was certain he only held on to his position through brute force and an incredible chess game.

Sirius took a seat in one of the plush armchairs in front of the large desk and waited. Andre's office, as was to be expected, was far more lavish than Sirius' own. Everything was fine, but had that warm used feeling that comes with high quality furniture well cared for over a long period of time. The floor creaked lightly as Andre turned and Sirius met his eyes. His eyes lit and a smile turned the edges of his lips. He opened his arms wide as if to embrace him.

"Sirius!" Andre's voice boomed even as quietly as he spoke. "It's been too long since you've been to visit."

Andre stepped around his desk and sat down across from him. Still smiling. Sirius sat up in his chair and folded his hands between his knees.

"Yes. It has." Sirius couldn't help but smile back. " Andre, I need a few weeks vacation time."

Andre eyed him carefully. Sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. "Oh, courageux…I always imagined it would come to this."

Sirius shook his head, this man was brilliant and Sirius stared at the man wondering what it was that Andre saw in his face. Sirius spread his hands in front of him.

"Are you sure Sirius, you want to revisit all of this." Andre said quietly bringing his hand to rub the hair on his chin. "How are the dreams?"

"The same." Was all Sirius said, but he found he could no longer meet Andre's eyes.

"Ah, my boy. Would that I could have helped you back then." Andre let out a breath and Sirius looked up in time to catch the regret in the old man's glance.

Sirius sighed and stood. "Everything is as set as it can be in our work. I'm going to leave Marc in charge. He's the best choice, I trust him."

Andre nodded his eyes locked on Sirius' face. "And are you planning to come back?"

"I will if I can." Sirius replied and left the office, feeling sadness begin to creep in.

When he returned to his office, Marc was sitting in his office, back straight and stiff, eyes forward, ever the soldier. He stood when Sirius entered. Closing the door behind him, Sirius waved Marc to sit. He sat at his desk and took a moment to glance around his office. Finally, he looked at Marc. Marc hadn't said a word and he stared at Sirius pointedly not trying to read him. Unlike Andre, Marc was Sirius' subordinate and though he had nearly 8 years on him, his respect for Sirius was unwavering and he took the protocol of rank very seriously.

"Marc. I've just been to see Andre. I'll be taking some personal time. A few weeks, perhaps longer." Sirius said watching Marc's face closely. The questions the man was holding back built up in his eyes, and created a small crease on his forehead. But, his only response was a crisp nod to Sirius, nothing else.

"I've told Andre I'm leaving you in charge of the department in my absence." Sirius watched as Marc sat back a bit in his chair.

"Oui, monsieur."

"St. Clair will help you get settled. You can work out of my office. And I'll be available by owl should you need me." Sirius stood and looked at the maps on the walls, his eyes falling on London. "I may not be back, Marc, and I'd like to know if you'd be interested in maintaining the post if that happens."

"Monsieur…" Marc stood and came to stand next to Sirius. "It's no secret I've never aimed for your desk. I can only imagine the weight of it. I will serve, if you ask. But I believe I speak for all of us when I say, it would be better, we'd all be the better, if you would return."

Sirius didn't look him. He centered himself and closed his eyes. "Thank you, Marc. You're dismissed. Speak with St. Clair and he'll get you started. I'm leaving tonight."

Marc hesitated, but it was only for a moment. Once he was gone Sirius stood for a long time staring at the map and trying to imagine what would come of this.

Sirius was met by an annoyed Mr. Flich, as old and complaining as ever. The man appeared, took one look at the motorbike Sirius sat astride and began mumbling to himself. Sirius took a childish pleasure in the outrage on his face as Sirius gunned the engine and left the man in a cloud of dust as he sped toward the castle. He left his bike at the stables and walked the rest of the way.

Walking through the grounds of Hogwarts again was as painful as anything Sirius had experienced. Every thing around him seemed tainted and sprinkled with blood. All of his most precious memories worn and faded into something tragic and he was once overwhelmed by a feeling of suffocation. He missed Paris, he missed the unfamiliarity of the place, and its determined lack of personal history. He made his way up to the school which seemed desolate and abandoned now during the summer holiday.

His footsteps echoed in the foyer making him feel even more the stranger. All of it familiar and all of it different. The entrance to Dumbledore's office was left open and he made his way up the winding stone stairs and knocked firmly on the dark wood of the office door. When it swung open he stepped through and found that everything seemed exactly as it always had. A few new trinkets of Dumbledore's, but nearly everything was the same or at least familiar. Right down to the smiling white haired man sitting behind the wide desk.

Sirius said nothing as he moved to sit at one of the chairs before the headmaster, surprised that there wasn't more nostalgia in his thoughts.

"Sirius, dear boy, so good of you to come." Dumbledore's voice was light and airy as ever on the surface but Sirius could read something brewing beneath the friendly words.

Sirius nodded hello but found himself unwilling to speak, afraid his latent anger would rise up when he opened his mouth.

Dumbledore shifted in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "Yes, Remus told me you were still angry with everyone. I daresay, Sirius, that it must be tiring to hold a grudge for so long."

Sirius shrugged and the light in the old wizard's eyes seemed to die a bit. He came around the desk and sat himself on the corner in a way that was uncharacteristic of him. It was an obvious attempt to force a casual feeling into a conversation that was anything but.

"Sirius, I would apologize to you if I thought it would hold any meaning or ease any of your pain. But I know that it wouldn't. I was wrong, so was Remus and our mistake cost Lily and James their lives."

Sirius stared at the man trying to calm the storm of anger swirling in his heart.

"That is why I have asked you here. I do not want to make the same mistakes again." Albus never flinched from Sirius' gaze. "You are a loyal and valuable asset to our cause, and it is my fault that anyone ever believed otherwise. I know this, I am not asking for forgiveness, but for your help not just for me but for the innocents who will suffer, and for Harry."

"What exactly is it that you want from me Albus?" Sirius said his voice flat.

"There are a few things, I am hoping you will be able to assist me with." Albus said as he returned to his chair. "Firstly, you have an incredible skill. Many at the ministry here have heard of your talents and the French speak very highly of you."

"I am a profiler. Nothing more." Sirius said.

"Yes, a profiler." Dumbledore said. "A profiler who has never failed to retrieve his target."

Sirius shrugged.

"You are good at what you do, Sirius. Perhaps the best there is, and your skills might be exactly what we need to tip the scales in our favor." Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you're aware of the mass break out of Death Eaters from Azkaban?"

Sirius nodded.

"Even with the Order and the MLE looking we have not been able to locate any of them." Albus said. "These are the worst of the worst, Sirius."

There was a beat of silence. "What else?"

"Harry is here at Hogwarts for the summer. He came of age last summer, the blood wards provided by the Dursley's are no longer effective, and so, for his protection, I have asked him to stay here." Albus watched Sirius closely.

"Please, Albus, the preamble is unnecessary. What is it that you want?"

"Of course, of course. I believe you still own your parents' home at 12 Grimmald Place. It is both Unplottable and protected by the strongest wards of any home in London. I was hoping you could take Harry in, he feels stifled here, unhappy, and very alone." Albus responded. "I was also hoping you would allow us use of your home for Order meetings. Secrecy and safety are two things we cannot afford to lose at the moment."

Sirius sat back in his chair and studied the old man in front of him. There was a measure of desperation in his eyes but he concealed it well enough, most would never notice. Sirius did, and it was that desperation that caused him the most conflict. Albus had fought and lost this war once before, so had Sirius.

"Remus believes, and I agree, that you would be a good influence on Harry, he has been through a great deal, too much for one his age." Albus continued. "You can show him, that even after great tragedy and loss, life goes on…there is a future."

Sirius bit back the argument that sprang into his mind and held his voice steady. "I don't know that I'm the best for that, Albus. Beyond that, Harry is a man now, he doesn't need a replacement father. "

Albus tilted his head to the side. "I don't know that a father is what he truly needs."

Sirius had not given him an answer and after a moment an urgent letter came for Albus. Sirius stepped out as Albus responded, knowing the man would find him when he was finished. The man seemed to always be able to find him.

He found himself wandering the corridors with no particular direction. He was trying, perhaps too hard, not to remember. But the ghosts of his past slipped by him running in happy mayhem with the face of James potter and ethereal laughter echoing in the empty hallways. Everywhere he turned there was a memory, an emotion, and so much heartbreak in the aftermath. He stood for a long time outside Gryffindor Tower staring at the Fat Lady's empty portrait remembering the hundreds of times he had cajoled the Lady with flattery to let him in when he'd forgotten a changed password.

"Would you like to take a look?" The voice behind him was soft and welcoming and when he turned he couldn't help the the smile that overtook his face.

Minerva McGonagall was a women of many faces and Sirius, likely more than any other student she'd had, knew them all. She looked at him now with a mix of delight and humor crossing her severe features.

"Hello, Minnie." Sirius said it just to see the disapproval cross her eyes. That expression was familiar and safe in a way few things were to him anymore.

"Come, Sirius." She motioned for him to follow. "Sit with me a moment."

She led him to her private sitting room, a place he had never seen. It was every inch in fitting with her personality. Orderly and well maintained and austere. But there was the warmth of the Gryffindor colors there too, and the comfort that comes with surrounding a space with an endless amount of books. He stared around feeling himself relax, cloistered away from most of his past in a space he was unfamiliar with. Minerva poured tea and motioned him to sit in one of the sturdy chairs, which he was surprised to find exceedingly comfortable.

He watched her watch him as she added sugar and milk to their cups.

"You look well, Sirius." She took a delicate sip and a smile tipping her lips. "I'm glad to find you so."

Sirius looked at her and tried to determine if she seemed any older, and perhaps she did, but in his eyes she was solid and unchanging. "I am. And you, you are as lovely as ever."

"Oh, hush now. Don't you start that." But she laughed ever so slightly as she said it. He felt a swell of pride in the seeming pleasure she had from seeing him. She was always and forever his favorite professor and he wasn't sure he'd ever be done wanting to please her. "Tell me, what have you been up to? Last letter I received you were in France, and Albus has been buzzing with your career success. But what else?"

"Ah, well. You may find it hard to match up. But there isn't much else. I have become rather work-obsessed." Sirius set his cup on the table. "I only realized it when I requested the time off for this holiday, but I've not taken a day of personal time in nearly five years."

"A holiday is it?" Sirius could hear the disapproval in her tone, but got the feeling it wasn't directed at him.

"Professor, I find it difficult to believe that you don't know the reason I am here." Sirius felt the darkness creep into his own voice, and he wished it wasn't so.

To his surprise, Minerva stood and moved quickly away, her back to him. It was an emotional gesture, one he'd seen many times. When she turned there was sadness and frustration writ across her face.

"You must know, Albus and I argued over this. I asked him to leave you be." Minerva sat this time at the edge of the sofa nearer to his chair. "Albus sees the forest, and sometimes forgets it is comprised of trees. And even still, he doesn't know the half of what your life has been."

Sirius looked away. It was too much, her caring.

"From the letter you sent, I gather there is quite a bit you do not recall from certain times." She tread carefully, but still firm.

"It has been coming back these past years, the things you sent…they were invaluable in that." When he looked at her again there was conflict in her expression. She lay a gentle hand over his on the armrest.

"Sirius, there are things…truly…I hope you have forgotten. But if ever you remember and seek explanation you only have to ask."

Sirius could only nod and he pulled away from her touch, to once again grasp his teacup.

Minerva folded her hands in her lap. "As I was saying, Albus doesn't know or perhaps he chooses not to see. I didn't want him to contact you and drag you back here, to face another war and none of us have any right to ask it of you."

"You think I should return to France?" Albus had made it seem as though the need of him was dire.

"I think, it is important that you understand, your skills are valuable, and would be to our cause, of certainty. But what you have already done, what you are doing now, is no less worth your attention." She smiled at him. "I have kept track of you, I know of your accomplishments in France and India as well."

Sirius' head shot up. "India?"

"Yes, didn't you know?" She shook her head. "Of course not. Ayush Patel has sent his twin daughters here for schooling. They're Harry's age now."

Ayush. Sirius smiled sadly at the name. It had been a long time ago, now. "He's well?"

"He is. He speaks very highly of you. Swears he wouldn't be alive if not for you."

Sirius shakes his head, it was true—and not true.

There was a loud pop and a small elf appeared behind Minerva.

"Professor, the Headmaster has asked that I request of yourself and Mr. Black that he return to the Headmaster's office once he is able." The elf dipped her head with a little bob.

"Of course, thank you Dotty." Minerva stood as the elf popped out again and turned back to Sirius. "Now, before you go. I heard that you've gotten yourself registered."

Sirius smiled. "Yes, Ma'm. The French pushed it through for me a few years ago."

She placed her hands on her hips and gave him an expectant look. "Well, lets see it then."

Sirius unfolded himself from the chair took a breath and transformed. There was a pride in her eyes that swelled Sirius' heart. When he transformed back she nodded her approval.

"Well, done Mr. Black."

Sirius felt lighter after leaving Minerva, a weight lifted and her kindness and remembrance like a soothing balm had eased some of the ache of old wounds. Albus met him in the foyer as he made his way back.

"Sirius, forgive me, I'd not meant to be so long." Albus' eyes twinkled. "But it seems as though it was not without it's good. Did you find Minerva well?"

"I did." Was all he offered in return.

Albus nodded. "Would you like to meet Harry?"

They crossed the grounds in silence and as they came to the Quidditch pitch, Sirius could see the figure of a young man reclining on the grass staring up at the sky, a broom lying at his side. When they drew close enough to make out his features, Sirius drew a breath and his step stuttered a moment. If Harry noticed their approach he didn't acknowledge them, and Sirius stared. The boy looked so much like his father, and yet was clearly not. His black hair was longer than James ever allowed his to be, and curled slightly around his ears and at the back of his neck. He had no glasses and Sirius wondered if he didn't need them. His features were well defined and at a glance exactly like James' but at a closer look… softer. From the angle Sirius couldn't make out the color of his eyes, but he remembered them to be the most brilliant shade of emerald, even brighter than his mother's.

"Harry!" Dumbledore called out.

Harry turned and his green eyes fell on Sirius. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry stood, brushing grass off of his muggle jeans. He was well muscled and fit, Sirius guessed that he probably played Quidditch, and he looked to be nearly as tall as James was, but not quite Sirius' height. Sirius felt something stir inside of him as he watched the boy walk forward, absent of the characteristic cockiness to his strides that usually comes with being nearly eighteen.

"Harry, this is Sirius Black." Albus said. "I told you about him if you recall."

Harry nodded and held out his hand to Sirius giving him a once-over.

"Harry Potter." He said, his voice low and wry. "But I suppose you know that already."

"I do." Sirius offered a small smile. "I was…a friend of your parents."

"I know." Harry returned. "Remus told me."

Sirius felt that the boy was trying to console him with the words and he found that odd. He recalled Remus' statement that Harry suffered from his mother's compassion, and it made Sirius wonder just how much like his parents, Harry was.

"Well, I'll leave you two to discuss things." Albus put in. "Sirius, please stop back at my office before you take your leave."

Sirius nodded but kept his eyes on the man before him. He was beautiful, and Sirius was nearly positive he shouldn't think so.

Sirius and Harry sat on the bleachers staring out over the pitch. They hadn't spoken since Dumbledore had excused himself and Sirius got the impression that Harry was arranging his thoughts carefully before he spoke.

"The Headmaster says you have a house where we could have Order meetings." Harry's words were deliberate and his tone gave away nothing.

"Yes. My parent's house." Sirius felt suddenly tired and old.

Harry glanced around them and sighed. "You haven't agreed though, that's why he wanted us to talk. He hopes I can convince you."

Sirius looked at Harry catching an unusual sense of aged wisdom in his eyes. "Right."

Harry shook his head. "Remus told me about you, said you had left England when my parents died and hadn't been back since."

Sirius leaned back and looked toward the pitch and the forest beyond it. There was so much else that existed in between the words that Harry had spoken. But he couldn't find a way to express it.

"Where've you been?" Harry toyed with the bottom of his t-shirt.

"Traveling, but for the last five or so years I've been in Paris." Sirius watched Harry's hands, long fingers stretching and smoothing the fabric.

"Doing what?"

"I work for the Ministry of Magic in Paris. In the Behavioral Analysis Department, I try and figure out how dark wizards think, work out what they'll do next, and catch them." Sirius said his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, he was trying not to look at Harry and was hoping the strange warmth that seemed to jump between them would dissipate.

"You any good?" Harry asked a smile and a joke in his tone.

"Yes." Sirius turned back to him with a smile.

"Remus told me…some of what happened." Harry said biting his lip. "I couldn't imagine you would want to come back. Why have you come now?"

"I…" Sirius shook his head. "I don't know."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while just listening to the breeze and the sound of emptiness that was so unnatural for the school.

"What is your house like?" He asked.

"I haven't been there in nearly twenty years now." Sirius responded. "But when I was there…it was prison I escaped from as soon as I could."

Harry laughed and it was a deep rolling sound that echoed across the pitch.

"It surely needs some fixing up." Sirius said running a hand through his long dark hair.

"What do you think you'll decide?" Harry met his eyes and Sirius felt a jolt that made his blood pound.

"What do you think?" He asked.

Harry's eyebrows drew together. "Honestly?"

"Sure. You'd have to stay with me, or at least that's what has been suggested."

Sirius watched something come to life in Harry's eyes and knew in that moment what his choice would be.

"I think Hogwarts has become something of a prison to me."

Somehow Albus had guessed his answer. Sirius could read it in his expression the minute he re-entered the man's office. He took a seat across from him and crossed his legs.

"I'll allow you the use of the house for Order meetings and for Harry to stay in." Sirius spoke slowly and raised a hand before Albus could interject. "As to the other, I agree to work with you on a consulting basis—only."

Albus sat back in his chair and Sirius felt the gentle push of Albus' mind against his own. He swatted the air between them in frustration. "Stop it, Albus. I've more practice at guarding my thoughts than I did when I was seventeen."

Albus raised a hand. "My apologies, old habits."

"I've no interest in joining the Order. If you want my help, it's on my terms."

Albus nodded. "As you wish."

"The house is likely in some disrepair. I could use some extra hands." Sirius rubbed his hand across his face. "If Harry is willing, it would likely serve to offer him some distraction. He's perishing bored."

Sirius stood and Albus followed coming around his desk to meet him. "Thank you, Sirius"

Albus offered his hand and Sirius took it. "I'm not doing this for you."

Today I'm not myself

And you, you're someone else

And all these wounds don't fake

And all the stars can quit

What a peculiar state we re in

What a peculiar state we re in

Let's play a game

Where all of the lives we meet can change

Let's play a game

Where nothing that we can see, the same

We'll find all the pieces to the puzzles

Slipping out under the locks

I can show you how many moves to check mate right now

We can take a part this life we re building

And pack it up inside a box

All that really matters is we re doing it right now

Right now

Soundtrack: OneRepublic- Au Revoir


	3. Autumn Leaves

It's a busy street and sitting now, on a bench in a small park he doesn't remember ever having been there, Sirius watches the people muggles and wizards alike going about the day. Heading to work, walking their dogs, catching a taxi. It's a strange contradiction in his mind that he doesn't remember this street, or the people. But he knows that house, hidden as it is from everyone else's eyes. And to him, it is not nearly as imposing as he had painted it to be in his memories.

Sirius closes his eyes against the brightness of the sun and for an instant, a flash of something a face and some movement and he hears a child's cry and a sharp pain stings his heart—and then it is gone. So quickly he can't make sense of it. Opening his eyes again, he sits for a moment, his hand resting on his chest and breathes.

The house was preserved, in the way that things are preserved in muggle horror films, bottles of green liquid and body parts, stuck somewhere between decay and survival. He had come in the front door to find himself face to face with his mother's portrait. Sirius had never seen her this old, not in life. He could see something of a women he recognized in her, buried under wrinkles and grey hair. She had ranted and raved at him for awhile and Sirius had stood and stared, trying to muster up any kind of emotion, but eventually gave it up as a bad job and moved on to determine the state of the rest of the house.

He had returned to the first floor when he heard a door creak to his right. He turned quickly, wand at the ready, to find giant eyes glaring at him with utter disdain.

"The blood-traitor has returned." It was a whisper, meant to be heard and yet…not heard.

"Kreacher, merlin…" Sirius lowered his wand and stared at the elf. "I'd have thought you'd have died of heartbreak after Walburga's death."

The elf bowed. "I serve the Most Noble—"

Sirius cut him off before he can finish. The stood staring at each other for a long moment, with Walburga still screaming in the background. Sirius watched the slow smile that took over the elf's face as her insults became particularly violent and made a decision.

"Kreacher, follow me, do not leave my side. That is an order, do you understand?" The smile quickly left the elf's face.

"As you wish," Sirius raised an eyebrow. "…Master."

Sirius threw a handful of floo powder and moved to stand inside the fireplace. With slow petulance Kreacher followed.

"Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts."

When they arrived, Kreacher fell out in a rather ungraceful heap, Sirius stepped over him and into the office. Minerva sat across from Dumbledore, both of them looking startled.

"Sirius?" Minerva's voice was half question, half disapproval.

"Minnie." He smiled and turned to Albus.

"Albus, I've come to make a donation." He swept his hand toward Kreacher who was now standing looking furious. "This is our family elf, long history with the Black family and it's _dealings_."

Albus considered him but said nothing.

"What with the renovations I'll be making, I can't imagine it'd be wise to keep him around." Sirius said pointedly. "Walls can talk and all that. Perhaps, there is a quieter place where he could be of use to you."

"Sirius…I'm not sure." Albus began.

"Non-negotiable." Was all Sirius said before coming to the Headmaster's desk and penning a note of transfer and signing it. He handed the quill to Dumbledore.

For a long moment, Dumbledore did nothing. Then he quickly signed his name when it was done Kreacher let out a wail loud enough to cause Minerva to cover her ears.

"Cheers." Sirius smiled, tipped an invisible hat, and stepped back into the floo.

In the end Sirius decided that with a little work the house could be made decent, in celebration of this decision, he kicked his heels up on his mother's ornate, antique tea-table, his black motorcycle boots squeaking against the polished wood, lit a muggle cigarette and hummed the tune of 'Another One Bites the Dust', his mother's wailing still going strong in the background.

This is how Harry found him when he flooed into the living room. Sirius watched as the young man stepped from the green flames and took in the house, his confused glance finally falling on Sirius' bemused expression.

"Hello. Welcome to Hell." Sirius said not moving from his place on the sofa. "Don't mind Satan back there, we'll be taking care of her soon enough."

Harry dropped his bag on the floor and moved to sit next to Sirius on the couch, his shoulder brushing against Sirius'. Sirius tried to ignore the pleasant, warm smell of him and failed.

"Well, then. Here we are." Harry said and the glint in his green eyes gave a kick-start to something inappropriate in the back of Sirius' mind.

Twenty minutes later, they were standing in the foyer before the screeching portrait of Walburga Black. They had tried just about every spell they could come up with between the two of them and there she hung hurling insults and curses all the way through. Everything from cutting spells to blasting spells, and the portrait hadn't even tilted.

Sirius smirked, "I thought this might be the way of it. Not to worry, I brought along a back-up plan."

Harry raised and eyebrow and Sirius exited the room and went to the trunk he left sitting in the kitchen. He opened it up and reached down into its extended depths before returning to the foyer with a wide grin on his face.

"You look a bit mad, just now, Sirius." Harry said.

"Leave it to my mother to be too proud to protect her dear house from muggle tools." He said with a deep barking laugh as he pulled back on the cord causing the chainsaw to roar to life.

He approached the wall ignoring his mother's high-pitched screams and proceeded to simply cut the entire portion of the wall surrounding the portrait in a slightly wobbly rectangle. He gave a hard kick to the bottom of the frame setting the section of wall wobbling. Sirius scrambled to get out of the way as the entire section of wall fell forward exposing the pipes and brick behind it. Sirius felt Harry approach from behind and they both looked down at the large square of wall, under which his mother's screaming was muffled.

"Well, that's done." Sirius said shutting down the chainsaw and turning towards Harry. "Tea?"

Sirius had called on an old friend of his in France, who owed him a rather large favor and happened to be particularly gifted with certain spells. Within an hour the man had manages to replace the gaping hole in the wall with a cunning window that was not dissimilar from the ceiling of Hogwarts' dining hall. It was incredible the change that window amounted to. It was as if the darkness of the house seemed to creep back from the light. Sirius found himself pausing whenever he walked through the foyer just to appreciate the difference.

They had decided to tackle the master bedroom and bathroom first, that way they had somewhere to sleep and wash. Sirius didn't bother going through the wardrobes instead simply shrunk them along with the rest of the furniture and threw them in a box to be dealt with later. Without the large and imposing four-poster bed and its black curtains and bed sheet the room seemed far less menacing.

Once it was empty Sirius and Harry began pulling up the deep burgundy carpeting and was surprised to find a warm rich wood beneath it. Sirius left Harry to scrub the room down on the claim of seniority and ran out to muggle London for some more supplies and food. When he returned they ate a quick and silent lunch before returning to work. They began refinishing the wood floors and they worked quietly for a while before Harry spoke up.

"Why can't we use some sort of spell to do this?" Harry asked, after they'd been at it nearly four hours. "Be faster wouldn't it?"

"Well, we could. But unless you've gone on to study some advanced transfiguration, the best we'd arrive at is a glamour which would cover and not change truly what's here." Sirius said. "Some things can only be accomplished by sweat and blood, my friend."

Harry seemed to mull this over with some disappointment. Sirius didn't tell him that he had in fact, studied some advanced transfiguration and could have made it easier on them. But part of Sirius needed this, needed to tear this place down and put something of his own in it's place. They worked in silence for another hour before Harry spoke again.

"What was it like growing up here?" He asked and the question seemed to fall from his lips almost impulsively.

Sirius turned to look at him, he was off at the other corner of the room on his hands and knees carefully painting a stain on to the wood flooring. He wore a black tank top that gave Sirius an evocative view of the muscles working beneath his skin, as well as what Sirius could only assume were battle scars. Sirius forced himself to return to his work and didn't speak for a moment.

"My parents were pure-bloods, I don't know if Remus mentioned that. The Black family always did buy into that madness. Aristocrats of the twentieth century for sure. My brother and I were no more than decorative, talking furniture for the most part." Sirius said his voice flat and emotionless. "I was the heir, first born, and expected to behave as such. When I was younger it was easy to simply follow orders, but around about ten or so, I suddenly decided it wasn't for me—all their talk and demands. Things were a lot worse from there on out. I left when I was just turned sixteen."

"Where did you go?" Harry's voice was full of compassion and Sirius glanced at him again.

"To your father's." Sirius responded finally, and Harry sat up and turned to face him. "They took me in without question, without judgment, and there I stayed until we graduated."

Sirius could feel Harry's desire to ask another question but after a few minutes of silence he let it drop and went about his work.

They had finished the master bedroom and bath by nightfall both of them working mostly in silence, but a companionable one. These silences gave Sirius the opportunity to stare at Harry and to think about Remus. Then they had fallen into bed still fully clothed and without a word gone to sleep.

There was smoke in the air, thick and choking him with every breath. At his right, someone was breathing heavily, bright streaks of color flew above his head. The two of them were crouched in a ditch, Sirius couldn't place the landscape that unfolded before him shadowed by the night, and he didn't recognize the language that was echoing not far away. When he turned his eyes toward the person beside him, he was met with a wand in his face. Betrayal washed over him, followed quickly by panic as his arms were grasped roughly from behind him and he was dragged to his feet.

On instinct he lashed out for freedom, while the man before him stood slowly and brushed off his pants. Sirius managed to free himself from his captors and leapt at the man before him his fingers closing tightly around the man's throat. He could feel hands pulling at him and the fingers of his victim attempting to pry at his.

"Sirius!" It was half-choked and urgent.

Sirius looked to the side of him to see where it came from and when he saw nothing but the desolate landscape, closed his eyes a moment and shook his head. When he faced his victim once again, bright green eyes full of fear looked up at him.

Sirius jumped back and tumbled off the bed. He could hear Harry's breathing, rough and desperate. Slowly, he stood and watched as Harry flinched when he neared the edge of the bed.

"Harry…I'm sorry." He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry."

Harry sat up rubbing his neck. "Bad dream?"

Sirius shook his head. "Bad memories."

Something passed in Harry's eyes, something that broke Sirius' heart a little, something that made Sirius realize Harry understood exactly what he meant.

Unable to sleep, they had made some coffee and gotten to work without another word about the incident. Harry had let Sirius heal the bruising on his neck, but had refused to hear any more apologies for it.

In the kitchen, some things needed updating mostly appliances, the tile of the floor needed cleaning. They replaced all the door and cabinet handles, discarding the metal serpents for simple gold knobs.

After the trauma of the morning, Sirius expected Harry to shy from him or to ignore him and was unprepared for the question when Harry spoke up for the first time all day.

"Were you and Remus lovers?" It was a bold question, spoken softly and Sirius dropped his screwdriver and the knob he was trying to attach making a large clink and crack as they hit the stone tiling.

Sirius heard Harry stifle a laugh and stood up from his place behind the counter. He looked over to Harry whose back was to him once again as he painted the walls an off shade of white. Sirius didn't know how to talk about Remus, he had never done so, not to James, or Lily, not to anyone. He didn't know where the conversation was going and he wasn't sure he wanted to have it.

"Yes." The word fell out between them much like the screwdriver and knob had fallen from his hand, right on the floor between them. Harry turned and Sirius couldn't identify the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"What happened?" He asked meeting Sirius' eyes directly.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. There were so many things and so many reasons and none of them were simple and none of them were pretty. He understood now, that despite Harry's understanding when they had first met, Remus had not told Harry the whole truth of Sirius' departure.

"It was war, Harry." Sirius tried, knowing it wouldn't satiate Harry curiosity. "There were a lot of secrets, a lot of distrust."

"So you left him when my parents died?" Harry asked but there was no judgment in his voice.

"No, we were finished long before I left." Sirius felt the familiar heavy weight of panic fill him, emotions were not his strong suit.

"Why?" Harry turned back to his painting. Sirius however, stayed where he was watching Harry's back once again.

"Hard to say. We never talked about it." Sirius said and he saw Harry's hand stop in the middle of a stroke before continuing. "Maybe Remus knows, he's always known things I don't, understood things in a way that I can't. I never asked him. I'm not entirely sure I want to know the answer."

They dropped back into silence and continued their work. That night, they were both exhausted and Sirius didn't dream.

They decided to separate the next day and take on the library and the den at the same time. Sirius was staring at the Black family tree, trying to determine what to do about it when he heard Harry's voice, sounding far away.

"Sirius?" Sirius was startled when he turned around to find Harry only a few feet from him. "We're going to need some help with the library."

Sirius looked at him taking in his left hand which was holding his forehead, blood running through his fingers and the tears on his t-shirts which showed smaller cuts beneath them. Sirius moved his hand to see a small gash on his forehead.

"What happened?" He asked trying in vain to ignore the sudden rapid pumping of his heart.

"Murderous books. I was looking at them, went to pull one off of the shelf and the whole lot came flying at me." Sirius shook his head at the slightly sardonic tone of the younger man's voice.

"Come on, I can clean you up."

In the living room, Sirius set Harry on the sofa and healed the wound on his head. Before helping him to remove his shirt. Sirius tried not to stare, he was fit for sure. He healed the smaller cuts and bruises quickly. Neither of them spoke. Sirius pressed gently at Harry's ribs.

"Does that hurt?" Sirius looked up to find Harry's eyes dark and swirling with something Sirius didn't want to put a name to. "Feel like anything's broken?"

Harry shook his head and Sirius nodded unable to tear his eyes away. Without thinking, without meaning too his hand slid up the planes of Harry's chest.

That was the moment when the floo came to life, and Remus stepped through carrying two boxes of files. Sirius' head whipped toward him and watched with a sigh as Remus' expression darkened as he took in their situation and the blood that had yet to be washed off Harry's face and chest.

Sirius sat in Dumbledore's office staring at Remus. He had been sent here after Remus had dragged Harry off to Pomfrey and here he had been ever since. Sirius was agitated and he was sure it showed on his face clearly.

"It was a bunch of books." Sirius said with a roll of his eyes. "Not the damn Avada Kedavra."

"He was hurt though and you didn't deign to bring him to get proper care." Remus said and Sirius recalled the accusatory tone from too many years ago. He stood and moved away from Remus and Albus who sat quietly on his desk, watching.

"Merlin, Remus. He's not made of glass." Sirius tossed out. "I can see from the scars he has that he's faced far worse than a cursed copy of Toylan's Encyclopedia of Spells."

Remus rebounded quickly, ignoring Sirius' outburst as easily as he ever had. "What was he doing in there alone?"

"We've been over this, Remus. Twelve or Fifteen times." Sirius said. "What the bloody hell is it that you really want to say?"

Sirius watched as Remus stood and faced Albus. "I think that Harry should come back to Hogwarts."

"Why don't you ask him where he wants to be?" Sirius put in brashly. "It's not as if he doesn't have a mind of his own!"

Sirius caught Dumbledore's eyes and they twinkled knowingly which only fueled Sirius' frustration.

"Perhaps, we shouldn't be so rash just yet, Remus." Albus said still looking at Sirius.

"The intention was for him to feel safe, and to decompress." Remus said and Sirius could see what lay beneath Remus' anger and the pettiness of it surprised him. "I don't see how any of this has happened. Sirius said himself they hardly talk."

"For Merlin's sake. I'm not listening to anymore of this." Sirius retorted. "You do what you will. You were the ones who came to me. I'm not going to be put on trial for this. Especially not by you, Remus."

Sirius made his way to the door and Remus called out after him bitterly. "What is it that _you _mean to say Sirius?"

"I said what I mean." Sirius turned and locked Remus in a hard gaze, his grey eyes icing over. "I owe you nothing and you should beware the line you're about to cross, because you surely will not like what is on the other side."

Remus opened his mouth to speak but Sirius turned quickly and was out the door before a single word had come. Sirius felt a cold fury building inside of him as he made his way down the stairs from the headmaster's office and out into the open foyer of the school. He walked briskly out the doors and found himself facing the black lake. He stood, hands in his pockets and stared at the lake. Willing himself not to break now, not after so long, not after he had pushed it all away and moved past it. But the memories washed up and over him, drowning him with their weight. Sirius stared out over the lake not seeing the water or the forest, but seeing in vivid detail the day that he had lost his sense of everything.

Dumbledore's robes had been a bright purple and Sirius recalled the twinkling stars on it. Peter, James and Lily sat to the right. Baby Harry on the floor playing with some blocks Sirius had conjured for him. Remus stood in the back of the office slightly distant from the rest of the group, and Sirius saw a strange sadness and preparation set to his features, as if he had already known what would happen. Sirius would learn that he had, they all had.

"We need to get James, Lily and Harry into hiding as soon as possible." Dumbledore continued and Sirius had noted an unusual tenseness to the man's jaw.

"Then we perform the charm." Sirius spoke up. "We've been planning that anyway. We'd only be moving it up but a few months."

Dumbledore nodded but when Sirius looked towards James, his friend wouldn't meet his eyes. Sirius took a step back and tried to look at them as a whole, he felt as if he was missing something. Lily looked near tears and Sirius tried to write it off as fear, but the voice in his mind reminded him that Lily had known they would hide, known of the danger for several months now. He glanced at Peter and everything had fallen in to place. Peter was wringing his hands and little beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, when the blonde man looked up Sirius saw the guilt and near panic in his eyes. He took another step back and several items rattled on the shelf as he bumped into it.

"You think it's me." Sirius said in a whisper. "You think it's me."

The silence was deafening as Sirius suddenly understood and there was a part of him that whispered a mocking 'I told you so'.

"You've been absent from Order meetings for two weeks in a row now." Remus said. "You're hardly around."

Sirius stared at him as an insane denial welled up inside of him. Surely not, he tried to convince himself, these were his friends…his family. He looked at James in desperation but he would still not look at him.

"Where do you go Sirius?" Remus asked and there was something defiant and cold to the tone.

Sirius stared at him, guilty images of bars, and men and wandering aimlessly down the streets of London filled his mind.

"I've been…" He looked at Remus and tried to recall something of the warmth that had once existed between them. "I…"

It was all too much.

"Where Sirius?" Remus asked again, this time with anger as if Sirius' stuttering only confirmed his guilt.

Sirius shook his head in disbelief and didn't know how to form the words. Here in front of James and Lily, Peter and Albus. How could he? How could he speak of the confusion and the dirty places he'd been and the self-destruction he'd been committing?

After another long moment of silence James finally spoke, his voice not as even as it normally was. "We've decided Peter will be our secret keeper, instead."

Still his friend didn't meet his eyes and Sirius felt as though a knife had gone through his very soul.

"Why…why would you think…?" Sirius didn't know how to phrase the question.

"Your family." James spoke his head still down.

"You…you are my family." Sirius said looking around the room in a desperate plea. Remus stepped forward with stiff movements and placed a vial of clear liquid on the edge of the desk.

Sirius looked at it for a moment and there was a part of him that raged against the very idea of being asked to prove his loyalty, a loyalty that had never been questioned before.

He motioned to the vial. "This is what you want?"

Silence.

He took three long strides to the desk and pried the top loose and taking the small dropper in his hands. After the questions had been asked, and Sirius' dirty secrets had spilled out, there was a tense moment, the kind of moment when the realization occurs that a line has been crossed and there can be no turning back. No one moved, no one spoke for a long time.

"Are you satisfied?" Sirius said blankly. All emotion had seemingly fled from him he glanced around the room and caught James' eyes for the first time. There was regret, and sadness, and pain but Sirius could not find the place in his heart where he could care. Still, they hadn't believed him. Still they had chosen Peter.

Sirius heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Harry approaching. The other man did not hide his annoyance well.

"Seems you did a good job of it." Harry said. "Pomfrey sends her hellos."

Sirius attempted to smile, but only nodded when he failed.

"What's wrong?" Harry's eyes scanned his face, that damnable compassion creeping into his eyes.

"Just ghosts of an old man's past." Sirius shrugged. "Come on, Dumbledore and Remus want to speak with you."

Harry decided to make dinner that evening and Sirius wanted to tell him how much like his mother he was, cooking to ease his tension. But instead he went down to the cellar and brought up a bottle of his father's aged Firewhiskey and poured himself a glass.

Not a word had been spoken between them since they returned from Hogwarts, Harry coming later after a brief, an private, conversation with Remus and Albus. An unavoidable curiosity ate at Sirius as he watched Harry prepare their meal. He did not offer his assistance, knowing he would be more a hindrance than anything else and at the moment Harry didn't appear to want want his help.

He took the time to take in everything about Harry from the messy dark hair that was growing shaggy and at times fell slightly in his eyes. He again noted, again, the absence of glasses and realized in the week they had been together at Grimmald he had learned nothing more about him.

"Do you need glasses?" Sirius asked and Harry glanced up for him a moment a question creasing his brows.

"Your father, wore glasses." Sirius explained, taking another sip of his firewhiskey. "Blind as a bat without them."

"I had them." Harry said. "They got broken a lot. A friend of mine, Hermione, she's muggle born took me to get muggle contacts in our 6th year. She's a worrier. Kept saying it'd be a bloody shame if Voldemort got the best of me because I was shooting curses in the wrong direction."

There was a soft smile that graced his face and a deep affection for this Hermione on his features when he spoke her name. Sirius wondered who she was to him.

"She's probably right anyway." Harry continued unprompted. "She usually is. She was top of the class."

"What's she doing now?" Sirius asked refilling his glass.

"She went home to spend the summer with her parents." Harry dropped the vegetables he had finished chopping into a large pot and moved to the icebox pulling out a package of meat. "She's worried about them, parents of muggle-borns have been disappearing lately."

"She's a good friend?" Sirius was rewarded with a smile from Harry.

"The best. Her and Ron, we've been friends since we took on a troll together back in first year." Harry said. "They've always been there, and that's no small feat. Being friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, comes with some…occupational hazards."

Harry continued cutting the meat before adding water and what seemed to be a hundred different spices.

"They are the only family I've ever really had." Harry's voice held some sadness, but there was a gratefulness there too.

The familiarity of the words struck something deep and painful in Sirius and he wanted to warn Harry of the risk of putting too much stock in such friendships, but then he thought about the look of regret in James' eyes, and the tears on Lily's cheeks that day so long ago and he held his tongue. Harry put the pot on the stove to cook and washed his hands before joining Sirius at the table. Sirius conjured another glass and poured Harry some firewhiskey, he pushed it silently across the table to him.

Harry took the glass and didn't flinch when he took a drink. Sirius looked at him noting the tenseness of his shoulders, and the anger that was still reflected in his eyes.

"Why are you angry?" Sirius asked pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket.

Harry didn't speak right away and Sirius wondered if he was simply not going to answer the question. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

"Remus wanted me to leave here and go back to Hogwarts." Harry frowned.

Sirius nodded.

"I refused." Harry said and Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Look, I know I'm not here baring my soul or whatever it is that they want me to be doing. But you…you don't act as if I'm a child and we're doing something important here. All summer I would be sitting at Hogwarts doing nothing, while people are out there dying and fighting. I know it isn't much, but preparing the house for the Order, it's _something_.

Sirius stared at him and despite his personal feelings he spoke up, "Remus is just concerned for your safety."

Harry sighed and took another drink. "Honestly, I don't think that's it."

Sirius didn't respond to his question directly, he didn't know the answers and his opinions on Remus' motives was not something that would do any good to share. "I'm going to be working on locating the escaped Death Eaters and probably Voldemort at some point. The boxes Remus dropped off were the first of the information they have gathered. You could help me sort through it if you want. Once we've finished the house up."

Harry smiled, and Sirius tried not to notice the fullness of his lips. "I'd like that."

Another day another life

Passes by just like mine

It's not complicated

Another mind

Another soul

Another body to grow old

It's not complicated

Do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you?

Float down

Like autumn leaves

Hush now

Close your eyes before the sleep

And you're miles away

And yesterday you were here with me

Another tear

Another cry

Another place for us to die

It's not complicated

Another life that's gone to waste

Another light lost from your face

It's complicated

Soundtrack: Ed Sheeran- Autumn Leaves

I won't put a request for reviews on every chapter, but your thoughts are always welcomed and appreciated. Feel free to ask questions or to throw out anything you'd like to see happen.


	4. Awake My Soul

"What are we going to do about this?" Harry asked looking warily at the shelves of books.

Sirius threw an arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. The easy affection had come easily to them as they worked. For the past three weeks they had continued to renovate the house with little interruption from the outside world. Their usual silences hadn't really disappeared, the two of them seemed to live comfortably in their own heads. But when they did talk, they talked about their friends, Sirius told Harry many things about James and Lily, they shared stories about Hogwarts and some few about Remus. They talked about other unimportant things like music and Honeydukes candies. But in the silence lay all the darkness they both knew each other held inside and it was this, as much as anything that had forged the strong and unspoken ease between them.

"Not sure…" Sirius took a step in the room. He approached a shelf and the closer he got the more agitated the books seemed to become, shifting irritably on their shelves. This library did not like him any more than it had Harry.

"Well, I know of one person we could ask." Harry said softly, reaching out to pull Sirius back from the shelf. Sirius looked at him waiting for Remus' name to come and the refusal already forming on his lips. Remus was talented at curse breaking and handling the dark arts, but Sirius had been avoiding him and he wasn't ready to stop just yet.

"Ron's brother, Bill Weasley, is a curse breaker for Gringotts." Harry raised a knowing eyebrow at Sirius' sigh of relief, "He's to be married at the end of the summer, so he's been moved to a desk job for awhile. Bet he's itching to get some action."

Sirius laughed and Harry shook his head. "Shut it. You know what I meant."

Sirius left Harry to pen a quick letter to Bill Weasley and found himself wandering the house proud of their accomplishment. They had worked well together, and they worked quickly. Sirius knew for Harry cleaning up the house was part of the cause and that was what drove him to work with such dedication and kept him going throughout their 12 or 15 hour days. For Sirius, he knew that spite for his mother was not the only reason for his ambition in this project, but he didn't want to think about what the other reason might be. And now, as they came to the end with only two rooms left, he felt a strange sort of loss.

They received and owl from Bill not twenty-minutes later, as they sat playing a game of chess. Bill had stated that he was 'thrilled' to be of assistance, and Sirius laughed when Harry explained how domineering Molly Weasley could be and that with the wedding it was likely worse.

When Bill arrived he was just as Harry explained, and perhaps more excited than Sirius had expected. Bill was an attractive guy, if one could get past the glaring red-orange hair. Sirius liked the earring he wore and the insolence of his long hair that was surely frowned upon in a place like Gringotts. Bill Weasley was open and friendly and Sirius could find nothing hidden behind what he offered of himself to the world. He was an honest guy, and Sirius respected him for that, having met so few of them.

"It's nice to be out doing some of the hands on work again." Bill nearly spilled over with excitement as they led him towards the library. "Mum's out of her head and has gone and taken Fleur right along with her."

Harry laughed and clapped him on the shoulder sharing an understanding look with the redhead. Sirius looked at the young man, who carried deep silvery scars on his face and was reminded of Remus and he ached at it, with sadness and with anger.

Bill entered the room cautiously and then turned back to them bouncing on his heals and pulling out his wand.

"Might be awhile, no need to stand around." There was a fire of excitement in his eyes that brought a smile to Sirius' face.

He turned to go but stopped when Harry spoke. "Mind if I stay, Bill? I'd like to see those books get their comeuppance."

Bill's laugh, was a deep throaty sound. "All righ', Harry. All righ'."

Harry found Sirius' eyes and Sirius didn't understand what he was meant to see there, so he shrugged. "I'll be upstairs if the two of you need me."

He was making his way up the stairs when he heard several thuds in quick succession and a loud yell from Bill.

"Bloody Hell!"

"I told you." Sirius' could hear Harry's exasperation just barely through the wall. He shook his head and continued up the stairs.

On the third floor he stopped and ran his fingers over the hand crafted plaque. Pushing the door open he stepped into what was once his younger brother's room, for the first time in nearly two decades. He had avoided this room and Harry hadn't questioned it. He took in the green and silver decoration and the general tidiness that was now veiled in a thin coat of fine dust. As he sat down on the mattress of the bed a billow of dust swirled in the air around him. He turned and looked at the newspaper clippings on the wall and shook his head, his heart breaking all over again..

"Oh Regalus." He spoke to the emptiness of the room and like before in the park, a flash of light overtook his vision and a splinter of pain crossed behind his eyes.

Two dark haired boys nearly identical but for the color of their eyes and the slighter build of the one, lay on their bellies a game of wizard's chess out before them. They vanished as another memory crossed over them and an older version of the small boy paced the floor of the room, and Sirius saw his own image, at just fifteen slouched against the wall, right hand clutching a wand as the left wiped blood from his nose.

"You can't leave me Sirius." Regalus's voice had a strange lonely echo.

"Come off it, Reg. You don't want me here any more than they do." Sirius' voice was harsh and a look of hurt washed his brother's face.

"I do. I need you here." Regalus was pleading, in such an uncharacteristic way.

"I can't stay, Reg." Sirius sighed. "Come with me to the Potter's."

A loud banging made it's way up the stares and both boys look to the door with identical expressions of fear and dread.

Sirius was not aware that the footsteps he had heard were more than a daydream-memory until Harry sat down on the bed beside him kicking up more dust in the process. Sirius turned to look at him, coming down from the pain in his head, and noticed a purple bruise forming below his eye. There was the spark of victory swirling in the green depths and Sirius tried to smile but he was too shaken by his own thoughts.

"This was your brother's room?" Harry's voice was unwontedly soft and Sirius closed his eyes against it. "Remus said he was a Death Eater, that he tried to give it up and Voldemort had him killed."

Sirius nodded, silent, even as Harry's warm hand covered and squeezed his own. _Remus_. It seemed they couldn't go a single conversation without his name. Harry stood and began poking about the room, and it didn't bother Sirius as much as it would were it anyone else, he was sure. Harry picked up a photograph and turned holding it out to Sirius.

"He played Seeker." There was a small smile playing at his lips. "Like me."

"Yes." Sirius said finally finding his voice. "He was very good."

Harry turned the picture back toward himself and looked it over again. "You look alike."

"Yes." Sirius was awkward but didn't know quite how to remedy it.

"Still, it seems as though you got luckier when it comes to looks." Harry said to the photograph and then replaced it on the shelf.

Sirius watched Harry at once denying and wholly believing that the words meant more than simple observation. He decided in that moment that he was a wretched godfather, for reasons far beyond a sixteen-year absence.

It was nearing mid-night, and Sirius sat in the living room staring into the flames. Harry had gone up to bed nearly an hour before. But Sirius sat pondering his freshly revisited memories, and the odd desires that swirled in his mind unable to shut them down and allow himself to find the quietness of mind to sleep.

When the flames shot up and the change in the hue alerted Sirius that someone was about to arrive he was on his feet in seconds wand raised. As the form solidified, Sirius' finger's tightened and a curse was on the edge of his tongue. Finally, Remus' graying golden-brown hair and strained amber eyes came into focus and Sirius lowered his wand, but did not put it away.

Remus stepped forward carrying a box under one arm and a rucksack over his shoulder. He did not seem surprised to see Sirius awake at this hour. He took in the room with a bit of shock, the warm wood flooring and the reds and gold silk of the furniture. The overall homey feel of the House of Black seemed to surprise any exclamation into hiding.

"Remus." Sirius said with a curt nod in greeting.

"I'm surprised I can't hear your mother screeching from her portrait at this newfound décor." Remus said in an attempt at levity.

"We got rid of her first day of it. She's down in the basement." Sirius said returning to his seat on the couch and his vigilant gaze at the flames.

"How's that?" Remus asked seating himself.

"Chainsaw." Was all Sirius offered.

They fell into a silence, but unlike the silences between Harry and Sirius it was strained and full of indiscernible emotion.

"I've got the information you asked for." Remus said. "Dumbledore has asked me to stay and help you sort it through. If that's all right."

Sirius nodded again.

"Sirius." Remus said after another lengthy silence.

Sirius looked up and even a stranger looking at him then would have seen the pain etched in his aristocratic features. When their eyes met, it felt as if a fire was ignited in Sirius. Old anger, and passion, hurt and betrayal swirled together and pushed against the walls he had so carefully erected.

"I'm sorry." Remus said his amber eyes never wavering from Sirius' the words steady and full of sincerity. "For…"

In an instant it was as if a damn had broken inside of him and suddenly every memory he had repressed came flooding into his mind.

James breathless and exhilarated stumbling into him on the their first train ride together. Remus huddled in a corner of the only compartment with any space left, shy and young. Remus, terrified and teary eyed begging them to keep his secret. Severus Snape's brush with death in the tunnel under the whomping willow. Remus' lips soft and hesitating under his own, that first time. The blinding colors of curses flying at midnight in Diaigon Alley. Death Eaters marching down the streets of London, and the feeling of Remus' steady hand on his shoulder. Baby Harry's tiny fingers grasping Sirius' long hair. The softness of Remus' bare skin beneath his fingers.

Without knowing how he got there, Sirius was suddenly standing, handfuls of Remus' shirt clutched tightly between his fingers as he pressed him into the wall. Sirius stared into the man's eyes, which held not fear but guilt. Sirius did not loosen his grip, and in the back of his mind he knew that if Remus had wanted to he could have easily overpowered him.

"Sirius." Remus spoke his voice soft and full of compassion.

But Sirius did not let him respond, instead his lips crashed down on Remus' in a bruising kiss. There was no passion behind it, no love or familiarity in the touch. It was not intimate, it was dominance. It was something Sirius took because he could.

He pushed himself away from Remus, self-loathing welling up inside him and stood breathless and confused at the center of the room. Remus opened his mouth to speak but Sirius held up his hand.

"No." Sirius said his voice low, his breathing still rapid. "There's nothing to it."

After another silent moment Sirius spoke again. "You can stay in my old room. Third floor, first door on the right."

He left the room, his thoughts swirling and emotions still raw. As he came into the hall he found Harry standing just outside the doorway. Slowly their eyes met, and before Sirius could begin to comprehend the meaning of the look on his face Harry had turned and retreated up the stairs.

The teakettle whistled on the stove and Sirius was undeniably grateful for the distraction. He stood so quickly that both Remus and Harry were jarred violently from their quiet thoughts. Sirius could feel their eyes on his back as he lifted the kettle, turned off the burner and poured the tea to steep. He didn't turn back to them, instead choosing to busy himself by arranging their mugs along the counter meticulously.

It had been like this since Sirius had woken up to find Harry already showered and dressed, sitting on his cot opposite of Sirius staring into what seemed to Sirius to be another world. The two of them did not speak, Sirius had sensed the strange disconnect and determined it was best left alone. They had met Remus in the kitchen and Sirius noted that his old friend looked as though he hadn't slept at all. Harry had cooked breakfast still off in whatever place in his head was so fascinating and Remus stared at the text of the Prophet. They had eaten in complete silence, neither of them looking at Sirius or at each other.

After he felt his escape had become somewhat obvious he poured the tea and levitated the glasses to the table. Both men reached out at the same time for the sugar spoon and there was an awkward moment where they both seemed to realize they hadn't spoken in the past hour. Sirius stood feeling as a spectator to a complicated mime. Remus motioned to Harry to take the spoon, and Harry added three spoons to his mug before placing it back.

"Good Morning." Remus spoke his voice rough as he took his own helping of sugar.

"Morning." Harry whispered, but it had an unexpected edge.

To Sirius, it felt as if they moved in slow motion as they both turned to look at him. He could admit it to himself openly and Sirius was sure Remus was likely aware, that Sirius was out of his depths. He had resigned himself to the tenseness and had no desire to wade into the dramatics. Both men were clearly contemplating something of emotional importance; Sirius felt edgy and wanted nothing more than to simply make a run for it.

Sirius nodded at them and they turned back to their tea. Sirius remained standing trying to convince himself that it would be high cowardice to take leave now. Harry moved before Sirius could and without a word stood and exited the kitchen leaving his tea untouched in its place on the table.

Sirius watched him go and felt the strangest desire to follow him and demand some sort of explanation for the mix of anger and disappointment on his features. But he remained rooted to the floor and turned to find Remus' weary gaze upon him.

"The pressure of all of this is really getting to him." Remus said his voice falsely conversational.

"Right." Sirius said distractedly, he turned away and then back to Remus looking for an excuse to not participate in whatever it was that was coming.

"Sirius."

Sirius glanced around the kitchen frustrated at the fact that there was nothing for him to even clean. He took a careful step toward the table and stretched out his arm to pick up Harry's mug, which he then took to the sink and poured out. In his head he was formulating a careful plan, talking to Remus had become something of a minefield, and Sirius was not sure he wanted to move forward into the conversation as chances were something was likely to explode. He busied himself with rinsing and re-rinsing the cup.

"Sirius."

Sirius turned a little in acknowledgement but he still did not speak.

"I think the cup is clean." Sirius was startled and turned around on reflex to find himself a mere foot from Remus.

"Merlin." Sirius said.

A small smile graced Remus' face and Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"Damn werewolf speed." He said but it was half-hearted and he glanced toward the door, which was now quite far away.

"We need to talk, Sirius." Sirius breathed a sigh of relief when Remus moved back to the table and took his seat. Sirius leaned back against the counter and watched him.

"We have to work together, and there is…a lot of history between us." Remus' voice was even as if he was discussing something rather bland. Sirius could only nod.

"So." Remus said and Sirius looked at the floor. "I am sorry. For everything."

Sirius felt the familiar bubbling of anger inside of him but he was cautious with it.

"All right." He managed turning back to the sink.

"Things were trying back then, and with James and Lily …after what happened to the Longbottoms…" Remus trailed off and Sirius hated him just then for making excuses. "Nobody knew who to trust."

"You should have trusted me!" Sirius dropped the teacup into the sink with too much force and it shattered with a loud, angry noise.

"I trusted you, it was— " Remus started but Sirius cut him off.

"Oh yes, after the veritiserum you trusted me." Sarcasm dripped from his words and he pushed off from the counter, topping suddenly when he realized there was nowhere for him to go. He rounded on Remus. "Tell me, did you ask Peter to drink the truth serum? Did you drink it?"

Remus looked taken aback by the question and the answer was in the guilt in his eyes.

"No, of course not." Sirius said his voice dripping in caustic bitterness. "Because I'm Sirius Black and even disowned I'm more a threat then a weak-willed rat and a fucking werewolf."

Remus sat unmoving and seemed incapable of a response.

"Bloody hell, Remus." Sirius said. "I was there, always. There was nothing I didn't do for you, any of you, when you asked. I planned the Potter's funeral when James was too much of a mess to do so, I stayed with Harry when Lily and James went off trying to find her parents for a month after we knew they were taken by the Death Eaters, I went with you and held your hand when the ministry branded you with that damn number.." Sirius' voice had become rapid and painfully raw. "I was there, and the worst of it all is _you. _You do know me, and you knew even back then why I wasn't around and why I missed the meetings. And still, you had to hear it. You had to hear me say it in front of Albus and James and Lily and that lying, traitor."

Remus' eyes dropped to his cup of tea and Sirius' heart ached for a past when they were closer, when Sirius had something to lose by saying such hurtful things.

"Tell me Remus," Sirius moved closer to Remus, his voice low and dangerous. "Did it make you feel better to hear me recite my dirty secrets? Did you like watching me fall apart while I explained where I was every night. How I spent my days drunk and my nights fucking any man that offered? Did that confirm that you made the right choice? Were you finally able to let go and move on knowing that I was, after all, the whore you always thought I was?"

"No. Sirius…" Remus stood, his eyes shining with unshed tears and Sirius wanted to hit him. "I missed you. I didn't know, honest, I didn't know where you were."

"You left me, Remus." Sirius said unable to stop himself in spite of Remus' unrelenting silence. "You left. You knew me then, did you expect me to do anything but self-destruct? And you used me, not because you wanted to be with me, but because you needed someone, anyone. You never loved me, Remus. I knew that and it was okay because I had you."

"I loved you." Remus responded and the silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever. "I still love you."

Sirius did hit him then, hard. Remus stumbled and stood again looking for all the world like a man accepting a punishment that was owed. Sirius hated him for it, hated him for the truth of his apologies. Hated him for trying so damnably hard to make amends.

"It isn't enough. This—" Sirius motioned between them. "—It's over, has been for too long. I don't love you. I don't want this."

"I know, Sirius." Remus wiped a spot of blood from his lip. "I know, and I'm sorry."

Sirius stood still as a statue as Remus approached and took his hands. "I need you to know that. I was wrong, whatever the reasons, I was wrong. I am sorry…for not standing up for you, for not trusting you enough…I am sorry for hurting you."

Sirius pulled away and brushed past him. "I can't do this. I can't…"

He left Remus in the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest and tears threatening to fall. It felt like that night again, that night when Remus had walked away from him. It felt like losing him all over again.

Sirius was in the den sorting through boxes and boxes of files, photographs, interviews and classified Ministry documents. He had transfigured the desk into a long wide table and conjured several chairs to sit around it. The room itself was large enough once he had removed all of the other furniture. He had also transfigured the wall into a large bulletin board and was now tacking photographs to it. He glanced up when the door opened to see Harry come in. He put the last photograph up and stepped back not speaking as Harry came to stand next to him. Sirius stared at the photographs without really seeing them.

"You know them, I'm sure." Sirius waved his hand at the pictures.

Harry nodded. "Seen them around here and there."

"I'll bet."

"Bellatrix LeStrange." Harry's face turned to stone. "Nasty piece of work that one."

"Ah yes, my dear, dear cousin Bella." Sirius laughed a little at the disgusted face Harry made. "She always was a bitch."

Harry smiled and Sirius put his arm around his shoulder. Sirius could feel the warmth of his skin through the light t-shirt he wore, and the way the muscles of his shoulders moved as he laughed. As he leaned a little closer he couldn't help but inhale the smell of Harry, something like wind at midnight, and fresh brewed butterbeer. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt Harry turn, when he opened them again his gray eyes clashed with a pool of liquid emerald. Harry's hand came up and rested on his cheek and Sirius felt as if his skin burned. There was nothing but the sound of their own breathing and the drawn out movement of Harry's thumb on his cheek. He meant to pull away, he meant to say something but Harry's lips were on his and there was nothing else in the world. It was as if Sirius himself had ceased to exist but for the swirls of adrenaline that had taken him over.

His lips were soft but his kiss was hard and forceful, as if kissing was an act of defiance against something more than simply the logic of the circumstances. And finally he let himself go and he pushed Harry backward into the wall, their lips never breaking contact. Harry's hands were in his hair, fingers curled at the nape of his neck. Sirius placed his hands on either side of Harry just next to his head and leaned in melding their bodies together and slipping his tongue into Harry's welcoming mouth.

It seemed to last at once a lifetime and a second and then he pulled away and caught the darkened shade of green in Harry's eyes. Sirius brought his hand to Harry's face and rubbed his thumb across the younger man's reddened lips. There was a voice in the back of his mind telling him he should back away, a voice that sounded remarkably like James.

"I'm going to hell for this." Sirius spoke, his voice deeper and rougher than usual.

Harry looked up at him a smile on his face and a touch of fear in his eyes. Sirius heard foot steps in the hallway before Harry did and he took a step back, Harry's hands trailed down his chest before dropping at his sides. Before anything more could be said the door swung open and Remus came into the room looking tense and creasing his brows as he noticed the short distance between Sirius and Harry.

"Sorry, I'm late getting back." Remus's voice was unsteady. "Meeting ran over."

Sirius nodded and unceremoniously pulled Harry away from the bulletin board. The three of them stood looking at the wall, Sirius standing at center with Harry at his right and Remus at his left.

"These are our top priorities." Sirius stepped forward and turning around to face them. "Bellatrix LeStrange, Rudolphus LeStrange, Frenir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov, Rabastan LeStrange, and Augustus Rookwood,"

They looked at the pictures that Dumbledore had procured from the Ministry and other sources for a moment before Sirius spoke again.

"So. Who should we go after first?" Sirius looked expectantly at Remus and Harry who both took another moment to consider the photographs.

"Bellatrix." Harry said, followed by Remus' quiet, "Greyback"

Sirius spun around and looked at the photos for a moment and then back to Remus and Harry.

"The first mistake that is made in a search for people who are part of a group like the Death Eaters, is that the first inclination is to go after the nastiest, vilest, most dangerous one on the list."

"Why wouldn't you?" Harry asked looking at the photo of Bellatrix again.

"Because, we want them all." Sirius raised his hand to stop Remus before speaking. "The most calculating and evil of dark wizards are masters at their trade. They are infatuated not only with the violence of their actions but also with the careful anonymity of their deeds. They don't want to be caught because that means their 'fun' is over."

Sirius looked at Remus and Harry. Remus was looking as studious as ever and Sirius could practically feel the man's desire to take notes, while Harry looked mildly frustrated.

"We need to start with the weakest mind, the messiest actions because once we start pulling at the loose threads the entire cloth will unravel." Sirius continued.

"So where do we start?" Harry put in with an exasperated look at the boxes of documents surrounding them.

"By learning everything we can about each of our targets." Sirius said. "Dark wizards are human, and they make mistakes and that is how we find them."

Sirius was alone in the house, Harry and Remus had both gone to the Order meeting and while he was invited, Sirius had declined. He had no interest in participating in round two of Dumbledore's little guessing-group any more than necessary and was grateful for the next few days of silence before the rest of the Order would move in. Yes, he was bitter, he knew, but not without cause.

He looked around the master bedroom and felt a strange pang of melancholy. They had finished the remodel of the house and Harry had moved to his own room on the second floor. Oddly, it was the room that Sirius had occupied when he was younger. Sirius imagined the photos of his father that permanently adorned the walls brought the young man a sort of comfort. For Sirius, they only bought bad dreams.

The master bedroom had only changed in one way, the two beds that he and Harry had used were now replaced with a large and ornate four-poster bed. Sirius straightened the black duvet before going to the armoire and pulling out a pair of dark blue jeans, and pulling on them over his hips. He had always felt more comfortable in muggle clothing, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he wore actual wizard's robes. He pulled out a plain black t-shirt and pulled it over his head before located his socks and pulling on his motorcycle boots. He turned and took in his appearance in the standing mirror in the corner.

Sirius had long since given up his narcissism, in fact, when he looked in the mirror all he saw anymore were the deep wrinkles of time that had started to form around his eyes and mouth. While Sirius only saw the years, others would see something else entirely. His aristocratic features had become even further refined, giving him a look of careful intensity, his grey eyes shone with both deep knowledge and a near-manic excitability that in rare moments melted their icy sheen. His hair he kept long and it fell around his shoulders in dark, silky waves that would make just about any woman jealous. Years of Quidditch, followed by his work at the French Ministry had left his body well toned and he stood just under six feet tall.

He knew that he was attractive, but he had no illusions of being the rogue and wild young man who had reveled in the admiration of girls and boys alike. He found no pleasure in the flattery, no excitement in the chase. But he was a man and between Remus and Harry he was in sore need of some release.

He pulled on his worn leather jacket and apparated to a familiar dark alley. He glanced around a little before he wandered out into the street while lighting a cigarette. He walked down the street and smiled a little at the drunken antics of a few men who looked to be making their way home. Sirius checked his watch and it showed 11:30 PM. He shook his head, it was a long time gone when he was that drunk before midnight.

He moved across the street and made his way into the bar amidst heavy smoke and loud music. He wound his way through the tightly packed bodies and up to the bar. He motioned to the bartender, and glanced up and down the bar. The bartender approached wiping his hands on a towel and smiling. His blonde hair was striped with bright blue streaks and his baby face was drawing the attention of many of the patrons who called out to him. He waved off the whistles and offers of a 'good time'. His bright blue eyes danced over to Sirius again.

"Hey sweetheart, what can I get you?" His voice not quite effeminate but not deep enough to be masculine.

Sirius smiled in spite of himself. "I'll have a whiskey on the rocks."

"Lonely are we?" The bartender replied with a grin.

"Why do you say that?" Sirius said watching as the man pulled a glass from under the bar and threw in a couple of ice cubes before pulling down the bottle of whiskey and filling the glass.

"Well, come in late and start drinking the hard stuff right-off." The blonde smiled widely. "If you're looking for a little…distraction…I'm off in two hours."

Sirius laughed good-naturedly at the young man's boldness. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six." He said with a wink and Sirius laughed again.

"And what would a little boy like you want with an old man like me?" Sirius responded and took a long drink.

"Sweetheart, you're aren't old." The bartender laughed waving off more shouts for his attention. "You're vintage."

Sirius laughed and downed the rest of his drink and let the blonde pour him another drink before smiling and turning to another customer. Sirius stood from the bar and turned around to face the wall of gyrating bodies.

Two hours later he was leaning against the brick wall to the side of the door of the bar. He didn't turn when he noticed the blonde come out the door with a few other boys in tow.

Sirius let them take a few steps away before he spoke up. "Just humoring me, then?"

The man spun around quickly and there was an eager delight in the blue eyes. "Well, well. If it isn't my vintage beauty."

Sirius laughed and flicked his cigarette out into the street. "None other. But it seems you found yourself more suitable company."

The man rolled his eyes. "Those two don't have anything on you, gorgeous."

Sirius moved faster than the younger man had expected and took three wide strides and pushed the blonde against the wall crushing their lips together. Sirius could taste the sweet spice of rum on the younger man's tongue and the heat rose between them like someone had lit a fire beneath them. After several minutes a long whistle followed by loud laughter brought them out of it.

"Oh go on you bloody wankers!" the blonde yelled at his companions and Sirius took in the flush of his cheeks and his reddened lips as he returned his blue eyes to Sirius. "I'm Jeremiah, such the pleasure to meet you."

"Sirius."

Jeremiah's eyes danced mischievously. "Oh, I know all about you Sirius Black. My mother always warned me to stay away from men like you."

Jeremiah didn't live far, and they stumbled their way their touch and kissing. By the time they reached the door of his apartment they were well beyond foreplay. Jeremiah navigated through the dark apartment leading Sirius by the hand. In the bedroom, Sirius pushed the boy down on the mattress where he lay like a tumbled schoolboy, fresh and innocent.

Sirius pulled his shirt over his head and the look of lust that darkened Jeremiah's eyes as he took in Sirius' nakedness only turned Sirius' on more.

"You are probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen." Jeremiah's voice was raspy with desire as he pulled Sirius down to him.

It was fast and wild, clothes quickly discarded and lips and hands meeting skin urgently. Sirius reveled in the noises the man made, and the taste of the sweat on his skin, the way his fingers dug into Sirius' skin.

Afterwards, Sirius lay on his back and Jeremiah propped himself up on an elbow running his fingers across Sirius' damp skin. Jeremiah's fingers found the sensitive raised skin of a wide scar on his stomach and began to follow it when Sirius grabbed his hand holding it prisoner in his own. Jeremiah sought his eyes, and Sirius saw the many questions that lit Jeremiah's.

"Oh, Sirius Black," He sighed with a happy, breathless laugh. "If I didn't know better, I'd fall for you in a heartbeat."

Sirius tilted his head with a raised eyebrow and Jeremiah kissed him, wet and hot.

"I'm a simple man," Jeremiah said moving to straddle Sirius' hips. "I'm only ever good for a bit of fun really. But you…almost…almost you make me want to spend my life putting your pieces back together."

Sirius didn't know what to say, so instead he pulled Jeremiah down and kissed him, before rolling their bodies over and holding Jeremiah tight below him once more.

The sun was nearly breaking when Sirius entered Grimmauld place, closing the door behind him and wincing at the resounding click of the latch. With a werewolf in residence there was no doubt his arrival had to be as quiet as possible. Sirius shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack beside the door. He stood staring up at the stairs in the foyer biting his lip, trying to recall which ones creaked. He ran a hand through his slightly mussed hair and finally took a step forward.

"Good morning." The voice was rough with weariness and something a bit sharper that Sirius didn't want to define.

He turned to face Remus who stood, cup of tea in his hand leaning against the doorway. Sirius looked at the man before him and for the first time saw beyond his own veil of pain. Remus and he were just under two months apart, but Remus' eyes had always held wisdom far older than his years. His brown hair streaked with silver was mussed from sleep and gave him a slightly wilder look than the man normally would allow. His strong features and stocky build coupled with his thinness gave him the look of both strength and frailness. Sirius sighed, as he took in the lightly tanned skin of the man's bare arms and shoulders. He knew what the skin felt like, tasted like.

"Remus." Sirius said and nodded.

Remus came a bit closer and tilted his head to the side. "Whiskey? Been drinking with the muggles?"

"Perhaps." He said running his hand through his hair again.

"Mmm. Sleeping with them too." Remus said quietly.

"No, the one I slept with was a wizard actually." Sirius heard the cattiness in the tone but wasn't particularly bothered by it. Remus stared at him for a long moment and Sirius did not break the gaze.

"You never change, Padfoot." Remus said quietly and Sirius bristled at the old nickname.

"No, Remus. I've changed a great deal." He responded coolly. "This isn't my life here Remus, I'm here to help Dumbledore and Harry. After this is all over I'll return to France and that will be that."

Sirius turned and started up the stairs as Remus called out to him. "Sirius, wait."

Sirius continued upstairs without glancing back, he heard a quiet curse from Remus before he disappeared into his room.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes  
I struggle to find any truth in your lies  
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know  
My weakness I feel I must finally show

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die  
Where you invest your love, you invest your life  
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die  
And where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake My Soul, Awake My Soul

Soundtrack: Mumford and Sons- Awake My Soul

Lovin' the Reviews.


	5. Is It Any Wonder

It was just a little cold on a rainy night and Sirius sat on his invisible front porch with a half-empty vial of dreamless sleep in one hand and cigarette burning in the other. He was getting wet, his hair slick with the soft rainfall and goosebumps running up his arms. But he was still, and silent and trying very hard not to think. He hadn't slept a whole night since Harry had kissed him.

Tonight, despite the vastness of 12 Grimmauld place, Sirius could not seem to escape Harry or Remus' presence or his own memories. As if on cue, Harry stepped out on to the stoop letting a gust of warmth from the house escape as wash over Sirius' back before he shut the door. Sirius glanced at him quickly and then faced the street once again. Harry sat down on the stoop pulling his woolen jacket tighter around himself.

"You shouldn't sit out here," Harry stared out at the street. "You'll catch cold."

Sirius laughed lowly and took another drag off his cigarette. "You aren't my mother, Harry."

They sat in silence for awhile and Sirius could feel the tenseness coming in waves off Harry.

"You've been avoiding me." The younger's man's voice was matter-of-fact and devoid of any emotion.

"I have been." Sirius nodded slightly.

"Why?"

Sirius turned and looked at him him, an eyebrow raised and a hint of a smile played at the edges of Harry's lips. Sirius tried not to stare at it overlong.

"Right." Harry rubbed a hand across his face. "Look, I'm sorry. I'd not meant to make you uncomfortable."

Sirius shook his head. "We can't do this Harry. You're too young for me, and our history is…complicated."

Harry was shaking his head, but Sirius wasn't in the mood for argument.

"No, listen to me…" Sirius turned to meet the green eyes. "It isn't going to happen."

"All right, then." Harry stood. "Can't blame a bloke for trying."

Harry offered his hand and Sirius took it. "Friends then?"

Sirius nodded and stood. "Friends."

Sirius sat in a pseudo-French café in muggle London looking over the information Harry and Remus had gathered on Augustus Rookwood who was to be their first target. Along with the personal history sheet, Harry had included various newspaper articles, photographs, and copies of the Auror's reports on each of his victims. He glanced up when someone neared his table and caught sight of familiar blue eyes. The chair across from his scraped across ground as it was pulled out, Sirius closed the folder in front of him.

"Stalking me now?" Sirius said taking a sip of his coffee.

"I should really be asking you that." Jeremiah responded with a wide smile. Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I work here Sirius."

"Ah, this is the respectable job then is it?" Sirius said with a laugh.

"Hardly. But as it turns out living the muggle life is expensive." Sirius caught something sad in the young man's eyes as he spoke.

"Donovan! I got your check here." A loud man called from the door of the café.

Jeremiah stood raising one finger to Sirius and making his way over to the man. Sirius rolled this new information around his mind for a bit and when he found the connection from his past he was instantly suspicious. When Jeremiah returned and caught Sirius' expression he sighed.

"Yes, well, it seems you remember my parents then." Jeremiah said.

"You're Sebastian's son." Sirius said his tone flat and unyielding.

"Yes, and you are Orion's." Jeremiah responded with a bite to his tone.

They stared at each other for a long time, Sirius trying to recall the night they had spent together through the muddy haze of his drunkenness, looking for a clue.

"Come on, Sirius, I'm as much a Donovan as you are a Black." Jeremiah said finally. "Disowned and Disinherited."

"I wasn't disinherited." Sirius said blandly.

"Lucky you." Jeremiah's tone was dark Sirius noted. "I was the second son, hardly missed."

Sirius sat back in his chair and looked at the younger man. "That's why you're living the lavish muggle lifestyle?"

Jeremiah shrugged. "I had no where else to go."

"They disowned you because of the men?" Sirius asked.

"Among other things."

Sirius watched Jeremiah tug at the end of his sleeve, a nervous habit, he was hiding something. Homosexuality was generally accepted amongst wizards although there were a few of the more strict pureblood lines that balked at the idea. Still, there was something else, something bigger. Sirius continued to study the blonde haired man and for the first time noticed the golden flecks in his eyes, eyes that betrayed nothing.

"Are you ready to leave then?" Jeremiah asked as he stood from the table.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, I'll fix you some lunch back at my place." The other man said with an easy smile, seemingly having recovered from their tense conversation.

"Why?" Sirius said his eyes narrowed.

"Because, I've decided we're going to be friends."

Sirius watched as Jeremiah stood and walked out of the gated patio area before packing his papers and following him. Jeremiah's flat was sparsely furnished but clean, clearly he took pride in everything he owned. Sirius wandered about for a while as Jeremiah busied himself in the kitchen. He walked down the hallway and used the loo, as he made his way back he stopped and a crease formed in his brow. He looked into the open bedroom door and noted the depth of the room, nearly 10 feet. He moved forward a few steps and looked at the length of he wall separating the bedroom and living room, nearly 15 feet he guessed. He stepped back and looked at the wall carefully, no door suggesting another room, nothing to explain the five-foot difference. He was still puzzling over it when Jeremiah came out of the kitchen.

"I have to run down to the grocery for a few things real quick. I'll be back in about fifteen-minutes." He said pulling his jacket on.

"I really can go, there's no need for all the trouble." Sirius responded.

"It's perfectly fine, like I said, I've decided we're friends." He said. "There's wine on the counter if you'd like a glass."

Sirius followed him to the door and once he had left, returned to the bedroom. He felt a little guilty but brushed it aside as he approached the back wall. He ran his hand along it, but it was perfectly smooth. He considered casting a revealing spell on it but worried about triggering an alarm. Unsatisfied, he returned to the living area and once again pulled out the report on Augustus Rookwood.

AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD

B: 10-28-1959

PARENTS: Angelica [Aracelli] Rookwood (Deceased), Patrick Rookwood (Deceased)

UNMARRIED

RESIDENCE: Unknown

IDENTIFYING CHARACTERISTICS:

HAIR: BROWN

EYES: BLUE

OTHER: Tattoos: Dark Mark (left wrist), Shamrock with S.A.O. insignia (right shoulder)

EDUCATION: Graduate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Class of 1977

High Marks: DADA, TRANSFG, POTIONS

OCCUPATION: Former employee of Ministry of Magic, Dept. of Mysteries.

INCARCIRATION: (1981-1996) Azkaban Prison. Escapee.

KNOWN ACQUAINTANCES: Lucius Malfoy, Rudolophus LeStrange, Igor Karkroff, Regulus Black.

KNOWN CRIMES: TORTURE, MURDER.

KNOWN VICTIMS:

Clarissa Thomas

Eric Bergeron

Amelia Bergeron

Camilla Archibald

Damon Archibald

Emily Archibald

15 Muggles [3 Male, 10 Female, 2 Children (female)]

Recently Reported Locations:

KNOCKTURN ALLLEY, LDN.

CANTERBURY AVENUE, SRY.

Remus had made a small note at the bottom of the page, explaining that they were still looking for the target's weakness. Sirius shifted through some of the photographs until he came across one of the Rookwood escorting a plain-looking woman out of a pub. He stared at it for a while, taking in the scene, the people surrounding them, what the woman's dark cloak, and finally it was the photo's movement that sparked his interest. Sirius watched as the photo reset itself and Rookwood opened the door and placed his hand on the woman's lower back. There was possessiveness in the action that started wheels turning in Sirius' mind. Sirius flipped the photograph over and read the caption.

_Rookwood, S. O'Leary. 12-24-1980. Byron's Pub- Knockturn Alley, LDN._

Christmas Eve, this was more than a simple acquaintance. Sirius looked again at Rookwood's summary sheet and two things jumped out at him immediately.

OTHER: Tattoos: Dark Mark (left wrist), **S**hamrock with **S.A.O.** insignia (right shoulder)

Recently Reported Locations:

KNOCKTURN ALLLEY, LDN.

**CANTERBURY AVENUE, SRY.**

He pulled out the biography sheet for Sandra O'Leary and the first few lines brought a smile to his face.

SANDRA AIMEE O'LEARY

B: 2-2-1956

PARENTS: Darla Shannon (St. Mungos, permanent care), Brian O'Leary (Incarcerated: Azkbn.)

UNMARRIED

RESIDENCE: 543 Canterbury Avenue, SRY.

Sirius closed the file and looked at the mug shot attached the front. He tapped his finger on Rookwood's pockmarked face. "Gotcha."

A few minutes later Jeremiah returned carrying a bag of fresh vegetables. Sirius joined him in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of wine and watching the younger man flit about making salad, and soup. They chatted aimlessly, and Sirius found himself enjoying the blonde's carefree banter.

"So what brought you back to England, Sirius?" Jeremiah asked as he set the soup to boil.

"Work." Sirius responded sipping his wine. "Doing some consulting here for the Ministry."

Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. "And what sort of work is it you do?"

"Oh you know tracking down dark wizards and what not." Sirius grinned, feeling a bubble of lightness around him from wine gone to his head.

Jeremiah sat down across from him smiling wide and causing a dimple to stand out on his cheek. "Such the hero." He said placing a hand to his forehead feigning a swoon.

Sirius pushed at his shoulder. "I'll have you know, it very complicated and grueling work."

"I'm sure." Jeremiah sobered briefly. "A bit ironic at that."

"What d'ya mean?" Sirius finished his glass and Jeremiah stood to get the bottle and stir the soup.

"Only just, that your family housed probably the most dark wizard's short of Salazar himself's," Jeremiah smiled, "And yet here you are, the last surviving heir, fighting the good fight."

Sirius sat back in his chair and shrugged. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

Jeremiah refilled their glasses and took the soup of the flame. As Jeremiah turned on the faucet and pulled back his sleeves to wash his hands, Sirius' eyes fell to the thick, white scars that circled Jeremiah's wrists, they looked to be nearly three inches wide. Without thinking Sirius was on his feet and suddenly holding the smaller man's wrist in his. He looked at it carefully, they looked like burns and something about the silvery color of the scars prodded a memory in the back of his mind.

"What is this?" Sirius asked searching the other man's eyes.

"Battle scars." Jeremiah responded gently prying Sirius' fingers off of his arm.

"I didn't notice them the other night." Sirius said and Jeremiah laughed, but there was sadness in it.

"No, you wouldn't have." Jeremiah turned and pulled his wand from his pocket causing Sirius to flinch. He waved the wand over his wrist and the scar disappeared. "I've perfected the glamour charm only lasts a few hours at a time though."

Sirius watched Jeremiah turn back to the sink and said nothing more on it, but the perfect edges of the scars and the forced levity in Jeremiah's voice left Sirius unconvinced, _he was lying._

When he returned to Grimmald Place later that evening he was still muddling through the complexity that was Jeremiah Donovan. Sirius had never believed in coincidence, and he battled with his own hatred of the stigma of his family but even still, Jeremiah's pureblood heritage was more than enough to arouse suspicion. He heard James' mother's voice in his head comforting him that his family's name did not define him and that while he could not erase the mold from which he was cast his future was his to shape. He sat on the stairs for a moment and contemplated what he had learned from Jeremiah over the few hours he had spent with him.

The young man was open and free with his words, but for a few closed doors that they had run across in their conversation. He was intelligent and well spoken, and greatly dissatisfied with his inability to find work within the wizarding world because of his older brother's political muscle. He seemed lonely, isolated and desperate for some connection to the world in which he truly belonged. Sirius had caught the young man with a sort of absent look in his eyes, which Sirius associated with prisoners.

Sirius was jarred from his thoughts when his cigarette burned so low that it singed the skin between his fingers. He quickly dropped it and stuck his fingers in his mouth, he stood and looked at the house gloomily before opening the door and entering.

The house was bustling with commotion, the order members had arrived early that morning and it seemed were still in the process of getting settled in. Sirius hung up his jacket and took in the faces around him, some of which he recognized, few of which he wanted to converse with. Harry was standing just off the foyer talking with two gangly red heads, laughter and mischief lighting his eyes and reminding Sirius of James. Remus was in the living room, one arm resting on the mantle a glass of dark mead in his hand. The firelight sprung up around him and made him seem somehow both softer and more dangerous then ever. Something started in Sirius when he met the brown eyes flecked with gold, but Sirius shook it off. Remus raised his glass to him slightly and Sirius nodded in return.

"Sirius!" A loud voice followed by a soft thud caused Sirius to turn around coming to find a petite witch with bright pink spiked hair pulling herself up from the floor.

"How are you?" She said near shouting as Sirius took in her Auror's robes and dark eyes.

"Nymphadora?" He asked feeling his own eyes widen slightly.

She rolled her eyes and huffed a little, "I go by Tonks these days."

"I doubt Andy appreciates that. How is she?" He smiled a bit at the thought of his favorite cousin, severe as she might be.

"She's good, working for the Order too. Won't be staying here of course." She said. "I can't believe what you've done with the place."

Sirius smiled at her, "Yes, well, it wasn't just me, Harry did a lot of work too."

Sirius' eyes drifted over to the dark haired teen-ager and found himself caught in the gaze of the emerald eyes.

"Black!" A gruff voice called out from near where Remus was standing and Sirius moved toward it with Nymphadora following closely behind. Sirius' eyes fell on the war-worn figure of Alastor Moody.

"Alastor, age certainly does seem to be treating you well." Sirius said his eyes glancing over the replacement eye and missing limb. Moody stood and offered his hand to Sirius who took it and they shook firmly.

"Heard about your work with the French." Moody said his eye swinging wildly about. "Impressive."

Sirius nodded.

"How's the work coming on the escapees?" Moody asked bluntly.

"I've got a lead on Rookwood, I'll want a team to go and collect him once we get confirmation." Sirius said taking the glass of firewhiskey Remus offered to him and sitting down on the sofa.

"We're on the ready whenever you need." Alastor's eyes glinted, always looking for the fight.

"I'll go!" Nymphadora threw in, her face flushing when she realized her words were just a bit too loud.

Moody gave a rough bark of a laugh. "So, long as it doesn't require any stealth."

Sirius smirked and caught Remus' eyes again, something in his mind was begging him to make a connection that he just couldn't seem to get a hold of.

Sirius was alone in the master suite, lounging in a chair he had conjured and staring out the window. The Order had cleared out, leaving himself, Harry and Remus alone once again. Some more guests would be coming to stay tomorrow, so Sirius reveled in the quiet he was sure wouldn't remain for long. He took a long drag off his cigarette and watched the smoke curl against the glass. His mind was wandering through the myriad of problems that had suddenly developed within his previously well-ordered life. France had been easy, uncomplicated and so very far away from all of his past. He was in it now, waist deep in 'complicated'.

Two letters had been delivered to him while he and Harry were out collecting Rookwood, and both of them caused him no small amount of concern. The first was from the French Ministry, inquiring about his absence, and requesting that he either return to take up his post again or to send them a list of replacements. Sirius was at an impasse. He could leave and return to his simplicity or he could leave it all behind. And then there was the letter from Jeremiah. Sirius didn't know what to make of it, and was particularly concerned about the younger man's seemingly endless desire to work his way into Sirius' life. Sirius didn't know what the man was about, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. There was so much else he had to worry about.

Like Harry, and his deep green eyes, and Merlin-be-damned lips. Harry who wore his father like a ghost upon his features. A knock came at the door and Sirius watched the reflection in the window as Remus entered the room a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and closed the door behind him. Yes, there was Remus too.

Sirius waved his wand and conjured another chair and turned to face Remus. Sirius looked at his long-ago friend and couldn't stop the part of his mind that wondered if his body was still hard and toned under the worn clothing he wore. Remus sat and conjured two glasses and filled them both. He handed one to Sirius and they took the first few drinks in silence.

"You remember," Sirius began looking down at the dark amber liquid in his cup, "When we would sit Harry for Lily and James, and talk about having a family of our own?"

Sirius glanced up and caught the look of anguish that crossed Remus' features. "Yes."

"I still think about that sometimes, but wouldn't know how to go about getting it." Sirius continued with a shake of his head. "When they died, I was going to give that to Harry—I thought we would. Together. Despite…despite _everything_. There was a part of me that believed, that wanted, for us to have our family with Harry. Then afterwards…I thought I would be able to do it eventually—Hell, it's been nearly 17 years now, and I've nothing to show but a career."

Remus only frowned, in his tragically subtle way. His lips turning down at the corners and his eyes closing slightly.

"And then, I figured I might find someone, I thought—I'd have to grow up eventually and when I did…there would be someone. I couldn't just find a woman to shack up with. I'm not like you Remus. Sometimes, I think about it. Just finding a woman. They're easier about the family stuff. But who am I kidding, right? I'm a shirt-lifter through and through."

Sirius took a deep drink, and tried to stop himself from rambling. He had missed Remus, he had missed having someone who knew him well enough to get what he meant. It'd been too long since he'd spoken to a _friend_.

"Sirius, are you sleeping with him?" Remus asked, and Sirius was surprised at the steadiness of the tone.

Sirius raised his head and stared into Remus' eyes. "No."

Remus bit his lip and looked out the window. "I see the way he looks at you, it's half hero-worship and half flat out lust. And you look at him too, but I can't quite get my head around what you're thinking about when you do."

Sirius sighed. "Harry—Isn't that little baby anymore. He doesn't know me as his godfather, or all of that. And I don't know him but as the eighteen year-old man he is now. And it's so damn hard, Remus, because I know he's James and Lily's boy. The one we all doted on and you and I used to play house with. You all want to protect him so badly, and I understand that…But—"

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. "Harry—you're right—He isn't that baby anymore, and you never saw him as a child, I did. I still feel a measure of responsibility for him, because James isn't here to protect him, and you weren't given that chance. But, he's a man now. As terrified as I am for him…he's no younger than we all were back when we were fighting this same war."

They were quiet for a long time, Remus refilled their glasses and Sirius stared out the window. Those haunting green eyes hovering just inside his mind.

Remus took a deep breath and a long drink. "Harry and you—you're a lot alike. Shitty childhoods, neither of you knowing much about affection. And like you, Harry has taken more than one man to his bed just wanting to ease the loneliness."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I thought he didn't tell you personal things?"

Remus smiled a little. "He doesn't. But there are no secrets when it comes to being the boy-who-lived. It's well known that over the last few years…well, he's not been discreet."

Sirius laughed a little. "James' son, for sure."

"In some ways," Remus shook his head a little sadly. "But he is his own person, he had to be."

Remus opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. There was a nervousness to the way he held his glass and something of a warning in his expression.

"He's seeing someone." Sirius tried to sound nonchalant despite the wave of unexpected jealousy that rose in his throat.

Remus nodded. "In a way. Nobody knows whether it's lasting. "

Sirius shook his head. "Well enough, if it is. I'm an old man, Remus. With old scars, and enough baggage to sink a ship. And he—Merlin, but sometimes he reminds me so much of James."

Remus laughed, and it was that deep, throaty and rare sound Sirius had always loved.

"Padfoot, he's eighteen and he's got more baggage than either of us, I think." Remus said. "I don't know what to tell you about this. Honestly, I don't think it's wise. I think one or both of you is liable to get hurt—and badly. But, then again, who am I to say? I can well understand his fascination with you."

Sirius looked at him. "James would have murdered me."

Remus filled their glasses again, the old darkness creeping into his eyes. "No, if James were here—you would have watched him grow up, you would have been the godfather, and your feelings for him would be different."

Sirius nodded and drained the rest of his drink. He stood and offered his hand to Remus, who took it as he set his own glass down on the desktop. Sirius pulled Remus into a tight embrace.

"I've missed you," Sirius whispered into his ear. "You're the only friend I've left."

Remus sighed and his breath was warm against Sirius' neck. "Me too. I'm so very sorry, Sirius."

Sirius pulled back and let his lips fall onto Remus' in a gentle kiss. It was comfort, understanding, and only just beyond friendship. He pulled away and looked into Remus' eyes. "There was a time when I thought we'd grow up old together."

"We missed our chance, didn't we?" Remus said quietly leaning is forehead against Sirius'.

"Yes." Sirius said his voice dry and his mind wandering back to their secret nights so many years ago.

Sirius looked into Remus' eyes again and studied the amber flecks in their depths. Something clicked in his mind. He pulled away from Remus and moved to the desk, picking up a piece of parchment. Remus sat back down in his chair and Sirius re-read the note.

_Sirius,_

_I need to speak with you. Please meet me tomorrow when the bar closes if you can._

_J.D._

"You know the Donovans?" Sirius asked and caught Remus' nod out of the corner of his eye. "You know they have a son—Jeremiah?"

Sirius turned and Remus had stiffened, his face set in hard lines. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, is he—a death eater then?" Remus asked and something sad in his tone made Sirius wonder if they had been lovers.

Sirius thoughts came to a halt. "What?"

Remus blinked and was quiet for a minute. "How do you know him?"

_Shit._

"Well—we had a bit of…ah hell." Sirius said rubbing the back of his neck. "Were the two of you…"

Remus laughed again. "No!—Oh Sirius. You certainly have some strange fetishes."

Sirius felt his brow crease of it's own accord. "What do you mean?"

"Werewolves." Remus laughed. "Most wizards can't say they've shagged one—but two!"

_Werewolves. Amber flecks, silver scars. Disowned. "Among other things." The room that didn't seem to exist._

"Bloody Hell! He's a damn werewolf!" Sirius shouted out. "I'm a sodding idiot."

Remus continued to laugh and after a bit Sirius broke down and joined him, for no real reason but that it felt good to laugh with Remus.

"So, how do you know him then?" Sirius asked after awhile and Remus' expression grew sad again.

"Ah, well, when Arthur was attacked, he had just been admitted to St. Mungos. I talked with him." Remus said his voice taking on the heavy sadness again. "I wanted him to know—that life wasn't over."

Sirius smiled, that was so _Remus_. "How'd he take that?"

Remus shrugged and took another drink. "Not well. He raged at me, begged me to smother him with his pillow. Said Frenir had come by and made him a good enough offer to join up with him. Better than anything anyone else had offered."

Sirius frowned. "He didn't you know. He's working in the muggle-world. Seems to be managing all right."

Remus smiled. "Glad to hear it."

"Would you do me a favor?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. "Sure."

"He wants to meet me tomorrow, come with me." Sirius said. "I don't know what to make of him but he says he _needs_ to talk to me."

Remus swirled his drink in his cup. "All right."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before another knock sounded at the door. Sirius raised an eyebrow at Remus.

"That'll be Harry." Remus said with a sly smile. "The boyfriend arrives tomorrow."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You played me for his benefit."

"No, Sirius. Honest." Remus said. "I only just thought you should know."

The knock came again and then the door swung open and Harry took a step in before stopping abruptly.

"Remus." Harry said somewhere between an accusation and a friendly hello.

"Well, I'm off to bed then." Remus said standing and giving Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze and he made for the door.

"Thanks for agreeing to go with tomorrow." Sirius said his eyes still on Harry.

"No problem." Remus tossed out over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

And then Sirius and Harry were alone. Sirius watched Harry as he leaned back against the door and swung his gaze around the room.

"Did you need something, Harry?" He asked trying to keep his voice bland.

"Just wanted to check in with you. You disappeared rather early." Harry returned his gaze to Sirius. "Everything all right?"

Sirius nodded. "I've been thinking. And I was wondering if you'd be interested in training to be a profiler."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really."

"Absolutely!" Harry said and then seemed to gather himself. "I'd like that."

"Good." Sirius said. "We'll start with the basics tomorrow."

Sirius stood and moved over to him. "Get some sleep, rumor has it you've got a visitor coming tomorrow. Best keep up your strength."

Harry smiled a little and then without warning closed the space between them, reached up pulled Sirius's lips down to his. The heat of the kiss was incredible, and Sirius couldn't make himself stop. Their tongues danced and it was with a forcible restraint that Sirius pulled away.

"Don't…" Sirius said his voice rough.

Harry laughed and kissed him again, lightly this time. "You're not my mother either, Sirius."

Sirius and Harry were sitting outside at the French Cafe Jeremiah worked at around midday the next morning. Both of them having taken a Polyjuice. Sirius hadn't told Harry he was going to make him into a pretty little blonde, Andre's secretary to be precise. And Harry's feelings about it were still written all over his features. For himself, Sirius had chosen to look like a young, muggle businessman he had shagged a while back. Sirius had a store up of random hairs he'd collected from muggles and wizards alike over the years, for precisely this kind of situation.

"Oh stop being so grumpy." Sirius couldn't quite hold back his smile as he took a sip of tea. "Most men would kill to be in your shoes right now, or perhaps just in your pants."

Harry glared at him but it wasn't nearly as effective with such a dainty face. Sirius winked at him as the other man adjusted his clothing.

"I don't understand how women wear these things." Harry huffed.

Sirius just laughed and then he spotted Jeremiah coming down the street toward them.

"All right, we're on." Sirius said his tone all business. Harry sat up and wiped the tantrum off his features. "Now, there's a blonde man behind you, no, don't look. He'll come round and go inside. He works here."

Harry rolled his eyes after catching a glimpse of Jeremiah. "Sirius, did you bring me here dressed like a bird to stalk some guy you're shagging?"

Sirius smiled at him for a moment. "I only shagged him once."

The glare returned to Harry's features and Sirius laughed. "Look, he's a Donavan, a family nearly as old and dark as mine. Death Eaters the whole lot of them. He's also a werewolf, and I have it on good word, that he was propositioned by Greyback when he was turned. Question we're trying to answer is: Did he accept?"

Harry bit his lip and looked at Jeremiah again through the window. The blonde was tying an apron around his waist and laughing with another man at the counter.

"Doesn't look like a Death Eater to me." Harry said but his eyes were scanning the crowd taking it all in.

Sirius opened the paper in front of him. "Watch him for awhile. Tell me what you see and what makes you think that other than how he looks. Looks can be deceiving." Sirius made a gesture to Harry's now significant bosom.

He read the paper as Harry watched Jeremiah silently for a long time.

"He doesn't flinch from them." Harry said and Sirius looked up at him. "The muggles. I've never met a death eater that seemed so at ease amongst muggles. If he's undercover he's a damn good actor."

Sirius folded the paper and looked at Harry. "What else?"

"There's something else." Harry titled his head, blonde curls falling over his eyes as he looked at Jeremiah. Sirius watched as Harry tracked Jeremiah's movement. "He's avoiding someone here. He's afraid."

Harry glanced more obviously around the shop and fell on a man who sat just inside the window. The man was perfectly still, had a cup of tea sitting in front of him that he hadn't touched. And for all that he was dressed like a muggle, he looked decidedly out of place and this man watched Jeremiah too.

"That man is a Death Eater." Harry whispered.

Sirius sat in the silence of the kitchen staring down into his cup of coffee, files and papers were spread across the once ornate black wood table as the sun began to bleed light into the semi-darkness of Grimmauld Place. A lantern burned at the edge of the table and a few candles smoked and melted on the counter, Sirius had not slept. His mind was reeling with an equal amount of important and petty concerns, ranging from green-eyes to his future career, death eaters and with a few werewolves thrown in for good measure. He'd been chasing sleep for several hours before he gave it up as a bad job and wandered down to the kitchen. He glanced out the window and absently noted that Molly Weasley would be in here in a few hours glaring daggers and shooing him out of his own kitchen. The woman had all but taken over last night when she'd arrived. Sirius glanced down at the parchment that he had been writing on and re-read the letter.

_Andre,_

_I apologize for my delay in notifying you of my intentions. I greatly appreciate the flexibility you have afforded me under the circumstances. As you surely understand and have expected, I will be remaining in England for an indeterminable amount of time._

_There has not been any overture made regarding a formal request for international assistance as yet. I have spoken with the Head of Aurors at the British Ministry at length, and after much discussion we have determined that it would be in the best interest of all parties to retract our current investigations until the formal request has been made or the situation here has been resolved, so as to avoid any confusion. If you prefer I can send out formal notifications to the appropriate departments here and advise them of the action._

_I have included the list of replacement candidates that you requested, but maintain that Marc would be far and away your best option. I will return to the Ministry as soon as I am able to clean out my office and discuss any further concerns you may have. I will, of course, make myself available to whomever you select, should any questions arise._

_I have also included my formal letter of resignation for your records. Please, remember that I am always glad to offer you and the Ministry any assistance you may require._

_Regards,_

_Sirius Black_

There was a pang of loss and sudden displacement in Sirius as the decision finalized. France had never really been home, but it had certainly been _his_. He was known there, for much better reasons than he was in England. He may not have had friends, or family, or any such relations, but he had respect and a body of people with whom he had, and would easily trust his life to. He folded the letter carefully and placed it into a heavy envelope. He heard footsteps on the stairs as he hastily scribbled the address and set it aside.

He had begun tidying the table when Remus entered, he looked up at the man and tried to smile, but he found himself forcing too much of the emotion for it to feel genuine. _Tenuous_ friendship with Remus was an unfathomable thing to him. Of all the Marauders, Sirius and Remus had been closest, even in their anger. Closer even, than he and James were in some ways. He sat back down and summoned a cup and the kettle of coffee. He let Remus pour his own and counted the number of sugar cubes the other man dropped into it. Eight, _always_, eight. Still eight.

"Couldn't sleep?" Remus said, his voice a little rusty with tiredness.

Sirius shook his head and watched Remus' eyes graze the envelope he had set aside and noted the slight raise of the light brown eyebrows.

"I can't go back, Merlin knows part of me wants to." Sirius said running a hand over his face. "But I can't."

Remus only nodded and took a sip from his coffee. Sirius looked at him, his face was drawn and tired, his brown hair mussed and the dark smudges of sleeplessness under his eyes. His maroon robe was tattered and old, and probably second-hand. He wondered what had transpired for Remus over the last seventeen years.

"Do you still stay in the flat?" Sirius asked without meaning to.

Remus raised his head and for a moment there was pain in his eyes, but it evaporated quickly. He nodded.

"Good." Sirius said and the word hung awkwardly in the following silence.

"Sirius—I…" Remus shook his head and took another drink. "I wish I knew how to go about repairing our friendship, but the other night makes me hope we can."

Sirius looked away from the despairing eyes and focused on the steadily rising sun.

"We had a strange thing, you and I. Always did." Sirius said and Remus snorted, reminding him of their younger days. "Closer than friends, and yet…"

"Not quite far enough away from friends either." Remus put in easily.

Sirius nodded and cast a warming charm on his coffee. What else was there to say? There was so much history, good, bad, and so much absence, so much loss and pain. Sirius, too, wished he knew how to go about bridging the gap between them.

"This thing with Harry," Sirius said after a moment's pause. "You don't think it's a bit—off?"

Sirius watched Remus carefully and there was a certain tenseness to his jaw and a conflict in his eyes.

"You don't really know him, Sirius." Remus responded quietly. "Despite the past month or so, despite what you've been told and what you've read in the papers…you don't know him."

Sirius took a drink of his coffee and frowned, it was true enough.

"I've reservations enough, be sure of it." Remus continued. "He's seen a lot of danger and death and he is young. But he's got a good head on his shoulders and if you think he's got some skill in your trade…well I'm not the expert in that."

Sirius sighed, "You're an expert in me."

Remus tilted his head to the side and a deep crease formed between his eyebrows.

"Once upon a time." Remus shrugged. "But…then again, maybe not. The one truism I've got, Sirius, is that you don't know him, and you should be careful not to paint him with the same colors as James. James was born to be an Auror, all that ego and confidence. Harry's not that."

They drifted into an easier silence and dark ill-tempered thoughts ran through Sirius' mind. Remus was right, which was no surprise.

"I'm thinking of going to Godric's Hollow." Sirius said abruptly.

Remus nodded reaching out and laying a hand over Sirius'. "I think you should."

They sat for a long time idle and quiet, content that the tenseness seemed to have deflated a bit and the subtle intimacy of the touch grounding them both. They sat idly sipping coffee, and watching the sunrise through the window. When Molly Weasley came into the kitchen, Remus stood up to help her and Sirius stood up to leave, Remus caught him as he made his way to the door and lay a gentle hand on Sirius' shoulder.

Remus whispered as Molly busied her self in the pantry, "I hope you find the happiness that I couldn't offer."

Sirius smiled then, "For years…I've hoped for that for you."

Later, Sirius was in the study carefully re-organizing their target board when Harry entered. When Harry came to stand next to him, just a little too closely, Sirius moved away with some effort. As he took in the younger man's simple but tidier appearance the question seared across his mind as to whether Harry had dressed to impress him or his _visitor_. But he pushed it away.

"Breakfast?" He asked turning his eyes back to the wall.

"In an hour or so." Harry responded.

"Good, we can go over some things then." Sirius said waving his hand in the direction of the wall and trying to avoid looking too long at Harry and his tight black t-shirt, and it's cheeky design, which made the man seem even younger in Sirius' eyes. Harry caught Sirius' look and glanced down at his own chest and then looked back up with a half-smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"You don't like it?" He asked.

Sirius looked again at the shirt, a stick figure knight went running across the contours of Harry's chest and was followed quickly by a fire-breathing dragon, and then the words "Sometimes the dragon wins." Appeared and held for a few seconds before the image reset itself.

Sirius shrugged. "It's all right. Your dad bought one after we got the animingus transformations down, which said, "I think my dog might be gay". Wore it around forever, no one else got the joke but He and Remus and—well, they had a good laugh."

Sirius recalled the memory fondly enough and but couldn't put the levity into his voice. Harry smiled but it was an uneasy one both recognizing his stumble for what it was.

After a moment Sirius turned back to the board and Harry stepped next to him.

"So where do we go from here?" Harry asked with a measure of excitement.

"Well," Sirius said running a hand through his hair. "Lets start with what you learned about Rookwood."

Harry nodded.

"Profiling isn't as glamorous as it seems." Sirius started with, going through the same speech he gave his own trainees back in France. "It's all about subtly, a lot of attention to details, wait and see like we did in the cafe. Some people have the talent for it, some don't. It's about taking all the little things that don't seem important and stringing them together until they form the bigger picture that will lead you where you need to go."

Harry's eyebrows came together, "You think I have a talent for it?"

"Don't know," Sirius returned blandly, "That's what we're going to find out."

Harry nodded.

"When you're looking at a target, there's a certain formula to it. You take the _what_, the _why_, the _who, _and it will lead you to the _when _and _where._" Sirius gave Harry a minute and smirked at his confused look. He moved closer to the board to stand in front of Rookwood's section. "With Rookwood, tell me the _what, why _and _who_."

Sirius gestured to the tacked up parchment and scrawled notes they had compiled and took a step back to allow Harry to take his place.

Sirius watched Harry's back as the younger man studied the board and smiled a little as the knight and dragon came racing around the back of his t-shirt. James would have worn that shirt, and Sirius probably would have laughed, but Sirius had lost his sense of whimsy somewhere back in the eighties and it had never come back.

"The _why_ would be because he had to go somewhere he could hide out, where he knew no-one would rat him out. " Harry said his voice only a little uncertain and Sirius felt some pride when he pulled the photograph of Roowood and O'Leary off the wall. "There's something here about this woman, this is more than just casual."

Sirius remained silent as Harry flipped the photograph over. "Sandra O'Leary."

Sirius stepped forward again and ran his finger down the parchment coming to land below one line.

**OTHER: Tattoos: Dark Mark (left wrist), Shamrock with S.A.O. insignia (right shoulder)**

Sirius tapped below the description of the Shamrock tattoo. Harry leaned closer, "Ah."

"You see, it's all about the details. The tattoo gives their relationship significance, his needs give us a motive." Sirius told him and then pointed at the photo of O'Leary and Rookwood, "Those things tell us to look at her more closely, so we take this photo and it gives us—"

"_Where._" Harry said. "The pub."

"Right." Sirius nodded to him. "Do you know how we establish the _when_?"

"Wait and see?" Harry said and Sirius smiled.

"Exactly, people are predictable. Even in insanity and power-lust they are predictable, the past will always give you an insight to the future."

Harry nodded. "So, what do we do once we have him. ?"

Sirius shook his head. "We start pulling the loose thread. We offer him leniency, or a perk, or a threat, and get a _who, what, _or _why_ on someone else and start the process again."

"Who?" Harry asked glancing at the rest of the targets.

"Who do you think?" Sirius asked. "Consider who we're looking for and what information Rookwood is likely to have."

Harry considered the board and looked at Rookwood's section again.

"Rudolphus LeStrange." Harry said after a long while.

"Why?" Sirius asked his tone intentionally neutral.

"They've been seen together, would have been in the same class at Hogwarts, so they are likely friends," Harry said his eyes darting from Rookwood's section to LeStrange's and back. "And if we get him, we have a link to Malfoy and the other LeStranges."

Sirius nodded respect welling inside of him, "And the walls come tumbling down."

Harry and Sirius worked silently for a while, sifting through papers and attaching them to the board. After nearly thirty minutes of silence Harry spoke.

"Sirius," His voice was soft and Sirius looked up from the box he was sorting through to see Harry standing staring at the board with his back to Sirius. "Why isn't Peter Pettigrew one of our targets?"

Sirius felt the familiar surge of old hatred at the sound of the traitor's name but forced a steady calm to his words, "Because, he isn't as high a priority."

"Why not?" Harry asked the same anger Sirius felt leaking into his tone.

Sirius sighed and turned back to the papers he was looking at. "There haven't been any sightings of him in 17 years. Not even a whisper."

"I saw him." Harry said and Sirius' head snapped back up almost painfully.

"What?" His voice was a low whisper, but harsh and unmistakable.

Harry turned around and came to stand across the table from Sirius, clenching his fingers tightly around the edge of the tabletop.

"I saw him, in third year and again in fourth." Harry said and Sirius conjured a chair and sat down in it heavily. Harry did the same. Their eyes met, hard, slate grey meshing with green and Sirius felt his heart quicken.

"Tell me." Sirius said and there was a naked desperation in his words that startled him. Harry opened his mouth to speak and Sirius's body was tense with the need to know.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Harry turned away as he took in the new arrivals. Sirius heard the excited chatter but not the words. He stared at Harry's empty chair long after he had gotten up and then dropped his head to his hand. Adrenaline was coursing through him leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Sirius." Harry said and Sirius raised his eyes to look at the people who had entered.

A young woman, petite with wild curly brown hair framing her soft features, she returned his look with a scrutiny akin to Remus' gaze. The boy was tall, taller than Harry, with bright red hair. He had the look of a gangly boy just beginning to fill out. Hermione and Ron, Sirius recalled and stood.

He made his way around the table and held out his hand to the young woman.

"Sirius Black." He said smoothly, and there was a slight pink tinge that rose to her cheeks.

"Hermione Granger." She said softly and turned toward the red head, Sirius offered his hand again.

"Ron Weasley." The red-head got a awestruck look. "You're the French Profiler!"

"I am…Harry speaks well of you both." Sirius said with a polite smile. Looking at them he felt old, and wholly unnecessary. "I'll leave you to catch up then, I don't think we'll get much more done with the circus that is about to arrive here."

Harry opened his mouth to speak but the buoyant red head spoke first.

"Wicked shirt!" He said with a laugh, "Charlie is gonna love it."

Sirius met Harry eyes and gave a slight shake of his head. _No, _he said silently, _this is not my place._ Sirius tore his eyes away and left out the room as the conversation started up again behind him. He closed the door and took a minute, leaning against the wall of the hallway, his eyes closed.

He heard footsteps and voices at the end of the hall, he took a breath and made his way towards them. Remus stood with his back to Sirius just inside the foyer talking with two redheaded men. One was Bill Weasley. He was fit and had a bit of wildness to him that reminded Sirius of his younger days and if Sirius had held James' proclivities he might have been attractive. His hair was long but still shorter than Sirius' and a dragon fang earring hung from one ear. As he arrived the stockier man glanced up and Remus turned around to face him.

"Sirius." Remus said with a smile.

Sirius nodded his eyes darting to the two other men. "You've met Bill and this is his brother Charlie Weasley." Remus said by way of introduction. "This is Sirius Black."

Sirius held out a hand to Charlie, "My pleasure, sure are a lot of you." Sirius offered a friendly smile and the two Weasleys let out a laugh.

"Just wait until we're all here." Bill responded his voice warm full of mirth.

Sirius smiled at them. "Well, can I offer you anything? Knowing Remus he's just been chattering away about some odd muggle-book reference and not offered you tea or a glass of firewhiskey."

Remus narrowed his eyes but there was the light of a smile in their depths, Charlie and Bill only laughed and agreed. They settled around the kitchen table, Charlie had turned his chair around backward and sat with his arms resting on it's back.

Sirius took a sip of his tea and turned to Charlie. "What do you do, Charlie?"

"Ah, well, I'm still abroad working in Romania on the Dragon Reserve." Charlie said with a grin that wasn't completely unattractive, "Dumbledore's asked me to keep on and try and recruit assistance from the English on the Reserve. Says the day might come when we'll need everyone we can get."

Sirius looked at him blankly for a minute as Remus drew him into a conversation about what types of dragons they kept at the Reserve. Suddenly, the ridiculous t-shirt, _Charlie's gonna love it_, took on a new meaning. This was Harry's _boyfriend_. It was a struggle but Sirius managed not to regress back to his teenage years and compare everything about this bloke with himself. He fixed a passive expression on his face and tried to focus on the conversation, his eyes got caught in the brown ones belonging to Bill and the other man cocked an eyebrow and titled his head.

Merlin, but I'm losing my touch, was all Sirius could think. The talk turned to the Order and Sirius listened with half an ear and watched Charlie Weasley. After his realization, he paid closer attention, noticing the man's subtle expectant glances toward the kitchen door and the way his fingers twitched a little on his cup. He was waiting, and on the surface he was calm but on the inside he wasn't nearly at patient as he put on.

Sirius found himself joining Charlie in his apprehension, wondering what the reunion would look like. Would they greet each other stiffly and wait for some time alone? The way Remus talked, people were aware of their relationship and it seemed they were comfortable enough with it to wonder about its longevity.

Sirius turned his gaze to Bill who glanced at Sirius every few seconds as if trying to put together a particularly difficult puzzle, Sirius smiled at him and he looked away. In the back of his mind, Peter Pettigrew's name was doing a sadistic little dance that made Sirius want to vomit. He looked at Remus. Remus had known, he had to have known that Harry saw Pettigrew. Why hadn't he said something? Why hadn't he _done_ something?

There was a loud clatter from the living room and all four of them stood to take a look. Molly Weasley came through the floo carrying an armful of shrunken grocery bags, which balanced precariously, one already have fallen and spilled its contents across the floor. Charlie and Bill swept forward to gather them up and help her to the kitchen. Remus and Sirius remained in the living room listening to the sounds of their greetings. Sirius looked at Remus.

"Harry has seen Pettigrew." A statement, a question, an accusation.

Remus looked at him and there was nothing but exhaustion and a smoldering hate in his eyes. He nodded stiffly.

"I saw him too." Remus said. " He was posing as a common house rat."

Sirius looked at something else in the room, the mantle of the fireplace, and the claw-foot of the chair.

"Why didn't you kill him?" He tried to keep his voice even, curious and not angry.

Remus let loose a long sigh, "I tried. Merlin, Sirius I wanted to."

"Why didn't you?" Sirius asked taking a step toward his friend.

"Harry," Remus whispered quietly. "Harry said James wouldn't have wanted one of his best friends to become a murderer. We were going to turn him in but he escaped."

Sirius closed his eyes tightly. "James would have killed the rat himself, for harming Lily or Harry, for even _trying_ to hurt them."

He opened his eyes and caught the end of Remus' nod.

Sirius missed Charlie and Harry's reunion, but he did not miss the aftershocks of it. Molly Weasley was all smiles and teary-eyes when Fred, George and Ginny arrived with her husband Arthur. Lunch was being prepared and there were Weasleys and Order members lounging all about the house. Sirius began to feel a little suffocated, a little claustrophobic and it was wearing on his nerves. He made his way up the stairs and through the darkened hallways heading in the direction of his room when he heard some scuffling and noises coming from the hallway that led to the attic stairs. A part of his brain knew what he was about to see, a part of his brain wanted to see it, and a part of his brain was playing dumb, so he turned and took a step into the hallway. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the candles in the hall had been dimmed down to nearly nothing, but by Merlin, they did _adjust._

Harry's back was against the wall, his hair even more mussed than usual, his head pressing against the wall and titled backwards, eyes closed and mouth open. Sirius stared at him and felt the salvia pool in his mouth and his blood heat in his veins. His eyes traveled downward to the absurd shirt that was pushed up baring his toned stomach, a wide hand splayed across it covering his navel. And then there was red hair, Harry's hands buried deeply in it, and Charlie Weasley on his knees.

Sirius willed his feet to move, leave, go—anywhere. But his eyes remained on the site before him and his feet were in mutiny against his demands. He returned his gaze to Harry's face and flinched when the green eyes opened, lusty, deep and unforgiving with desire. Sirius stared and Harry stared. He opened his mouth and let out a soft moan. Sirius felt the sound as if it were a hand on his skin. He took a step back, and another. His eyes still locked with Harry's

He watched as Harry's eyes washed over and went out of focus for a minute, another whisper of a moan and the muscles of his face tightened, but his eyes stayed open and Sirius took another step back. Harry's lips tipped up at the left and Sirius took another step finding himself back in the well-lit hallway.

_Bloody hell._

Sometimes

It's hard to know where I stand

It's hard to know where I am

Well maybe it's a puzzle I don't understand

But sometimes

I get the feeling that I'm

Stranded in the wrong time

Where love is just a lyric in a children's rhyme, a sound bite

Is it any wonder that I'm tired?

Is it any wonder that I feel uptight?

Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?

Soundtrack: Keane- Is It Any Wonder


	6. Skinny Love

Sirius was in a bit of a mental haze, which is the only reason he could think of that he ended up attending the Order meeting. After everyone had eaten, they waited and held mild conversation as Molly and Ginny cleared the table. Dumbledore hadn't arrived yet, nor had the members who were ministry aurors. Sirius sat at the far end of the table, Remus to his right, Fred and George Weasley across from them, at the other end Bill, and Arthur sat speaking quietly with Dedalus Diggle and a few others Sirius didn't know. Harry and Charlie sat towards the middle of the table next to Fred, and Ron and Hermione across from them.

Sirius watched Charlie Weasley more than anything, he should have. Watched the red blush creep up his neck as Harry leaned over to whisper in his ear. Watched the smile that played over his lips and the swirling emotion in his eyes. And then it hit Sirius like a bludger, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Merlin, Remus." Sirius whispered his head titled toward Remus but his eyes on Harry's blushing redhead.

"What?" Remus asked bringing his head to look at Sirius.

"He's in love with him." Sirius said his voice still low.

Sirius looked over at Remus who was now looking at the couple down the table.

"Harry?" Remus seemed disbelieving.

"No, Charlie." Sirius said with a shake of his head. "Charlie's in love with Harry."

Remus sighed, "That's not a surprise. Most of them were at one point or another."

Sirius felt a jolt at the words. "What do you mean?"

"He's a bit like you at that age, really." Remus whispered back. "He makes them swoon and doesn't even know it and certainly doesn't reciprocate. Although, Charlie's been different."

Sirius looked back at Harry again and tried to search for the same emotion that was swimming in Charlie's, but looked away when laughing green eyes met his.

"I guess I didn't realize." Sirius said lamely after awhile.

"You don't really know him." Remus shrugged.

The Order meeting was what Order meetings had been the last time around. Chaotic, lots of shouting and arguing and handing out of information piece-meal. Dumbledore tried to keep it under control, but there was too much at risk for emotions to be easily placated. Sirius, for the most part kept out of it. He explained his bit about Rookwood, and talked about the withdrawal of French aurors from England.

But there wasn't much new to be said, and eventually Dumbledore with the assistance of the others, filled Sirius in on what had been happening in England for the last seven years. Sirius knew most of it from the Prophet and French papers and his own team's missions, although he didn't let on how much really did know. Somethings were new, but the gist of it was familiar, Voldemort had possessed the Defense teacher, and made an attempt on the Sorcerer's Stone. Harry had stopped him. Lucius Malfoy had given Ginny Weasley a diary that held part of Tom Riddle's soul and she'd been possessed. She'd opened the Chamber of Secrets. Harry had saved her and stopped him again. Harry had discovered Pettigrew in his third year, using the map the Marauders had created and they had attempted to capture him, but had failed.

Barty Crouch, Jr. had polyjuiced himself an acted as Defense teacher in Mad-Eye's place, entered Harry in the Tri-Wizard tournament, which he'd won, but at the price of losing a classmate and seeing Voldemort reborn using his own blood and Peter's arm, dueled Voldemort and won because of the twin cores of their wands. The next year, Harry had begun seeing visions of Voldemort, a Ministry of employee had all but taken over Hogwarts and Dumbledore had been dismissed, Harry and a slew of rebellious students stormed the Ministry to save Arthur Weasley from an attack, and the Order had won, with heavy casualties. The MLE and the Minister arrived just in time to see Harry drive Voldemort from his body with _love_ and the Wizarding World had realized that the war was indeed upon them. And then…Voldemort had gone silent. As tensions mounted, and fear permeated in Britain, muggle killings still occurred, there was a mass breakout of Death Eaters from Azkaban, and the Ministry was in a state of disarray. But nobody knew where Voldemort was, or when the next major strike would be. But something was coming, and it had the entire of Wizarding Britain on edge.

Sirius had been watching Albus as he told this tale, and something besides the review of history caught his attention. Dumbledore had kept one hand, his left, under the table the entire time despite, to the best of Sirius remembrance, being a distinctly gestural speaker. _Odd._ When the meeting broke-up, Sirius hung back and watched Albus speak with a few others, never rising from his chair. Finally Albus stood, tucking his hand into the pocket of his robes.

"Sirius, I hope this meeting helped somewhat." He said and Sirius stood, the closer he got to the older wizard the paler and more sickly the man looked.

"Albus," Sirius said. "What's happened to your hand?"

Albus laughed a little, the twinkle in his eyes only a bit dim. "I should have known you'd notice it."

Sirius nodded grimly. Albus sighed a bit and withdrew his hand from the pocket. The fingers on his hand had blackened and the veins of his hand and up his arm were black beneath the skin.

"Cursed then?" Sirius said taking the man's hand in his and turning it over. "Is there nothing for it?"

Albus shook his head slowly, "Unfortunately, no." He said. "Severus has done all he can, for the moment it's contained."

Sirius nodded. "How long?"

"Weeks, months," Albus said. "Half a year if I'm lucky."

Sirius took a breath. "Do you know the curse?"

"Pride, my dear boy." Albus said returning it to his pocket. "This is the cost of my own foolish pride."

And without another word he swept from the room, leaving Sirius alone and more than a little concerned for their cause.

Sirius and Remus apparated into a dark alley and made their way out and across the street. They were silent, Sirius having already told Remus of his conversation with Dumbledore. The news had hit his old friend hard, and Sirius didn't know how best to comfort him. They approached the bar and saw a lone figure waiting for them outside it.

As the approached Jeremiah pushed off the wall and moved toward them, Sirius' hand tightened on the wand in the pocket of his leather coat. Jeremiah's eyes met his and he inclined his head. Sirius watched as the other man looked at Remus and his eyes widened.

"It's—you." He said with something close to awe.

Remus nodded slightly and then suddenly he was enveloped in a strong embrace. Sirius watched with amused eyes but held firm to his wand. When Jeremiah finally pulled away there were unshed tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said his cheeks reddening. "It's just—hell, you're like, my hero or guardian angel or something."

Remus colored as well and Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Anyway," His eyes went to Remus again. "Come inside so we can talk."

Sirius hesitated and Jeremiah caught on.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Jeremiah said heading back into the bar. Sirius glanced at Remus who nodded and they followed him in.

The bar was empty and set for closing, all but one table was put away. Jeremiah pulled out another chair for Remus and they sat around it, Jeremiah poured them each a glass from the bottle of whiskey that had been left out on the table and made a show of drinking first. Sirius took a drink and stared at Jeremiah. He looked panicky, his eyes were tense at the corners and his hands shook a bit as he lifted the glass to his lips.

"What's this about, Jeremiah?" Sirius asked calmly.

"Look, all right." Jeremiah started taking another hasty drink. "I know, who you are. I know that you're involved with the French Ministry, and I need some help. I figured, you're not here on vacation so you've got to be involved in whatever Dumbledore's got going."

Sirius sat back in his chair and glanced at Remus who was holding his glass in his hand but hadn't taken a drink.

"What kind of help?" Sirius asked.

"I've been approached." Jeremiah said a note of desperation making its way into his tone. "By Death Eaters, more importantly, by Greyback." His eyes cut to Remus. "Again."

Sirius looked for the tells of a lie, but found only fear. He glanced at Remus who lifted his glass and took a long drink.

"Why not go to the Ministry here?" Sirius asked and Remus snorted.

"Because they'd arrest him." Remus said in a low voice and Jeremiah nodded. "You're not in France anymore, Sirius."

"Right." Sirius said, "Tell me what Greyback said."

Jeremiah sighed, "He caught me on my way home one night. I don't know how they found me, but he told me that you-know-who, respected our kind, and would give us our freedom back. Said I'd been castrated by the Ministry, and that my parents would be happy to see me again."

Sirius nodded and Remus poured himself another drink.

"I told him I wasn't interested," Jeremiah said and Remus shook his head, "I know, not my brightest move, and he told me that if I wasn't interested in freedom, there wasn't much reason for me to live. Gave me until Friday to come to him. Gave me a time and address."

Sirius sized up the man in front of him, "Are you interested in working for the other team then?"

Jeremiah's head shot up, "I—yeah—but I didn't think they'd—."

Remus' hand came over Jeremiah's. "You'll find more acceptance amongst the light side than you will the dark."

Jeremiah nodded, "How do I-."

"Give me two days, and we'll be back." Sirius said standing and Remus followed.

Jeremiah stood and shook Remus hand, "Thank you." He said his voice heavy with emotion. "Thank you both."

They left him standing in the middle of the bar and made their way outside. They made their way to the alley and stood in silence for a minute, Sirius looked at Remus and noted his paleness, and the brooding cast to his features. He made a decision and grabbed Remus' arm turning on the spot.

Remus stumbled into him and Sirius caught himself on the back of an armchair. It took him a minute to realize he'd taken a risk bringing them here, he didn't even know what kind of wards were up. He steadied himself and looked around in mute shock, well, clearly the kind that allowed him through, he thought. Remus wasn't speaking, only staring at Sirius as Sirius stared around the flat. Sirius could feel Remus' eyes on his back demanding an explanation but he could only look. Everything was the same, nearly exactly the same, down to an old sweater of his that he'd carelessly tossed over the back of the sofa and his training robes from his days as an English Auror that hung on the coat rack. Sirius took a tentative step toward the sofa-table and looked at the pictures that stood proudly upon it.

A photograph of he, Remus, James and Peter. _What was it fifth year?_ Lily and James' wedding reception, James' arms around Lily's waist, Sirius' arm across James' shoulders and Remus standing just to the side his shoulder touching Sirius'. _Peter had left early, had he already been turned by then?_ A muggle photo of Sirius in his and Alphard's favorite record shop, headphones on his ears, smiling wide at Remus. _That was the first time I took him there._Sirius, James and Remus covered in paint. _The summer Sirius had run away from home._ Sirius and Lily waving from high up on a ferris wheel at the fair in Godric's Hollow. Remus and Sirius lounging in James and Lily's living room. Sirius' head in Remus' lap, Remus' hand in Sirius hair. very pregnant Lily, smiling broadly, her hands resting on her swollen belly. James and Remus chopping wood out side of Lily and James' house one fall. _James had lost that bet._ The original Order of the Phoenix, the five of them front and center, Frank and Alice Longbottom to their right. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, and so many others. _A bunch of kids, trying to save the world._ So many others, so many memories.

Sirius felt tears prick behind his eyes and moved away from them. He walked towards the shelf of records. Running his fingers over them. Sirius let out a breath that he didn't realize he had drawn and finally turned to Remus who was standing slightly pale, his fingers clutched to the back of a chair.

"It's…exactly the same." Sirius spoke into the silence feeling as though he were standing in a museum.

"Yes." Remus said glancing around the room as if making sure.

"After seventeen years."

"Yes." Remus repeated, and his monotonous voice prodded at the place where Sirius had hidden his anger.

"Why?" The word grated through his teeth, unwarranted anger seeping through.

"It doesn't matter." That same unaffected tone again.

"It bloody well _does_ matter!" Sirius said his voice rising a little. "It's like a shrine in here, Merlin. How do you live in the middle of all of this history?"

Sirius saw Remus' eyes flash with uncontrolled emotion. "Not all of us _wanted _to forget."

"All of _us_?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Remus, you and me—that is ALL of us."

Silence again and Sirius clenched his jaw. _Why was he suddenly so angry?_ Sirius took a deep breath and swung his gaze around the room again. Merlin, but he was drowning in memories. He sat heavily on the sofa, the one he and Remus had picked out when they 'officially' moved in. Remus hadn't liked Alphard's leather one, Sirius hadn't cared much either way. This one was a warm maroon with gold lining, it was old now, fraying. But Sirius recalled the day they bought it like it was yesterday. He looked up as Remus crossed the room and turned around.

"Why did you bring us here, Sirius?" He asked his voice low and betraying only a hint of emotion.

"You're in a state, Remus. Me as well." Sirius said. "I figured with all the people back at the house…and you'd said that you kept the flat."

Remus nodded, once. His eyes falling to the photographs that sat on the mantle. _More pictures, more memories_.

"The werewolves will go to him you know," Remus said, "Most of them. Vampires are likely as well, and…Albus is…"

Sirius had nothing to offer, there was truth in his words and truth in the foreboding sentiment.

"Albus says Harry is the key to ending this war…that we should help him and keep him safe…" Remus continued. "And to a certain extent Harry is strong, and there is no arguing that there is some connection…but we all thought…in the end that it would be Albus to take him on."

Sirius stared at him.

"When Albus dies…people will panic. A great measure of hope will be lost." Remus whispered. "I don't know that we can win this war without him."

Remus came and sat in the chair across him and Sirius looked at him, he looked lost and unsure, things he had seen Remus display only rarely and most others had never seen at all. And Sirius understood, because in part he felt the same. The silence was strong and filled with a near palpable fear, because Remus had not been wrong. It wasn't _if_ he dies, but _when _he does.

Sirius was back in his room at Grimauld Place, standing in front of the window and smoking a cigarette. He was thinking about Remus, wondering once again where he had been, what he had done these seventeen years. He thought about the unopened letters back in his Paris flat, and wondered if they would tell him. He and Remus had stayed at their old flat for an hour, in silence, until they felt like returning to Grimauld Place. By the time they arrived, every one else was asleep or had left. Remus had gone quietly to his room, without another word to him. Sirius had made his way up here but was too restless to sleep. He disappeared his cigarette and decided a nightcap was in order.

The house was silent as he made his way downstairs toward the kitchen. The darkness of the hallways and the cool wood of the stairs beneath his bare feet reminded Sirius of Hogwarts, walking barefoot on the cool stone. Things were complicated back then, but Sirius had been surrounded by people who made the complications worthwhile.

He was surprised to see the soft glow of candlelight coming from the kitchen doorway, he stepped through cautiously so as to give himself the opportunity to retreat if he didn't want the company. He caught sight of Charlie Weasley, an empty glass in his hands, a bottle of firewhiskey on the table and his head down, red hair falling over his features. Sirius summoned his own glass and sat down heavily in the chair across from him taking the unopened bottle and pouring himself a fair amount. He took a long drink and looked at Charlie who still hadn't moved.

"This is the good stuff, I'm impressed that you were able to pick it out of the mix." Sirius said softly but letting a certain amount of artful sarcasm into his tone.

Charlie lifted up his head, and the dark circles under his eyes told-tale that he was not up of his own choice. "I didn't. Just grabbed whatever."

There were things you learned after years of doing what Sirius did. You begin to learn that people, when you strip away the falsities of circumstances and ideology, are all basically the same. There were always the exceptions to the rule, Sirius was, Remus was, but Charlie Weasley was not. Charlie didn't speak, and he didn't have to for Sirius to realize that Charlie was trying to decide whether to talk or not. Sirius was an expert at getting people to this point and helping them through the threshold. Getting people to tell you things was a careful and dangerous art. When pushed to hard, or not enough, in the wrong direction or with the wrong impression of intentions people closed up, or lied. Self-preservation was odd in that way, it's a natural response to lie when insecure and Sirius had spent more time listening to lies than anyone was ever really intended to. Yes, people were fundamentally the same.

Everything you ever wanted to know about how to talk to another person, could be found in the way held their bodies. From their facial expression, their posture, the curl of their fingers, to how they crossed their legs, all told you the secrets to unlocking a person. Sirius poured Charlie a drink without asking. And watched as Charlie looked at the glass, tapped his fingers on the table, moved his hand to grip the glass but didn't bring it to his lips. _Nervous, as if he didn't want to get drunk or wasn't supposed to be drinking. _Charlie brought the glass to his lips and took a heavy drink, a spark of defiance in his eyes. _Defiance. Well, that answers that. _Charlie held the glass steady in his left hand and leaned back in his chair. _A show at comfort that he didn't really feel._ Interesting. Sirius sipped his own drink carefully, and watched Charlie's right hand tap on the table.

_TapTapTapTap. Tap—Tap._

Charlie looked up at him and then back down.

_TapTapTap—Tap._

Charlie didn't look up this time.

"I couldn't sleep." Sirius said his tone intentionally lazy. "Too much insanity going around unchecked."

Charlie nodded. _Why couldn't you sleep Charlie?_

"You mind if I smoke?" Sirius asked pulling the package of cigarettes out of his pocket. Charlie glanced up at him.

_TapTap._

"It's your house." Charlie said his voice low and rough, eyes flicking to the cigarettes in Sirius' hand and then back to the table. Sirius smirked a little, _too easy_

_TapTap._

Sirius pulled one from the package and held it out toward Charlie. The other man didn't raise his head but reached out and took the proffered cigarette_._ Sirius pulled one out for himself and drew his wand lighting it and then Charlie's. He conjured a small bowl to serve as an ashtray and watched Charlie's shoulders relax at the first drag. _Old habits, die hard._

Sirius finished his drink and poured himself another. "Harry has a rough time sleeping too, has he been up and about?"

Charlie stiffened a little and then shook his head. "Dumbledore took him back to Hogwarts, he'll be staying for a week. Something about Voldemort, I'm sure."

Sirius schooled his features. This was news to him, now he had to be careful which way he stepped.

"Oh. I didn't know." Sirius said. "You don't suppose it's serious do you?"

Charlie shrugged, "What isn't these days?"

Sirius took a drink, Charlie took a drink. They smoked in silence for a while. _Ah well, may as well dive in._

"That what has you up so late?" Sirius asked.

Charlie's hand paused for the briefest of moments as the brought the cigarette to his mouth.

"In part." His voice was a little distant, and that was a bad sign.

"I can imagine being—with—him is a bit overwhelming at times." Sirius said with an air of acceptance.

Charlie's head came up and their eyes met, Charlie's eyes flashing just briefly. "No." It wasn't really an answer to his question.

"Sure." Sirius feigned an apology in his tone.

Charlie waved a hand dismissively in front of him. "I know what you're about, Sirius."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, _oh really?_

"I may not be some fancy French Profiler, but I know Harry and you're—hell, look at you." Charlie said his voice low, "And you aren't the first to look at me as if I'm the compeititon."

Sirius took a drink and leaned back with a smirk. Charlie had cottoned to him. Sirius shrugged and took the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out.

"Harry's an arse, a right wanker, without evening trying or meaning to be." Charlie put out and Sirius let him talk. "Some of the other blokes, still follow him around. Harry doesn't put 'em off, doesn't notice what they're after, doesn't care to really."

Charlie took a drink and slid his empty glass across the table, Sirius poured him another and slid it back across the table.

"I know him well enough, to know I'm not a right fit for him not in the long run." Charlie said the words rolling off his tongue and coated in a surprisingly honest acceptance. "But, bloody hell, I care about him. And I know him better than most, Ron and Hermione aside I suppose. He doesn't see it, but all the running around he's doing—isn't what he really wants."

Sirius cocked his head and took another swallow of firewhiskey, his tongue and throat numb to the burn of it. "What do you mean?"

Charlie took a breath and a drink and shook his head. "You really don't know much about him. I figured Remus would have talked to you about it and you've been here with him awhile, aren't you his godfather or something?"

Sirius tensed at the term. "Seventeen years ago I was. I never really knew him, he never knew me. It was dissolved when Dumbledore gave him to his Aunt."

Charlie stared at him, and Sirius knew he'd read the defensiveness in his tone. "When I first met Harry, he was fifteen. All insecurity and self-repression. Gangly and uncomfortable in his own body. And then there was the Tri-Wizard tournament and he came out of it the winner with blood on his hands, or so he thought. I left for Romania and when I came back that next summer, Harry had changed. He had grown into himself, found a certain confidence and decided to go looking for the love he'd never had. "

Sirius steepled his fingers in front of him and watched Charlie take another drink. The other man had relaxed into the conversation with an ease that made Sirius wonder who was playing whom.

"He didn't make a secret of it, I think it was a way for him to take control of something, _anything_." Charlie said staring at Sirius unguardedly. "Everyone else is in control of his life, but they can't stop who he's fucking and they can't stop who he dates. Everyone was shocked at first, never really seeing Harry as a person in those terms. He'd grown up when nobody was looking and he was suddenly behaving more like an adult than many people wanted him too."

There was another beat of silence before Charlie continued a bit of wistful love in his tone, "On the outside, when it comes to relationships or what have you, Harry's all confidence and knows more than he ought about playing someone. He's got a way of just looking at you with those damn green eyes of his that literally brings you to your knees. But he's tormented, sorely at that. He doesn't talk about much, but it's there—all walled up and inaccessible."

Sirius poured himself another drink. "Why are you sharing this all with me, Charlie?"

Charlie took a deep breath and it came back out in a whoosh. "Because I know him and you don't." Charlie shook his head. "Because for all that you're bloody gorgeous and rich as hell, you _can't_ have him."

Sirius looked at him and Charlie held his gaze. In that moment Sirius decided he rather liked Charlie Weasley and gave a short laugh.

"I'm not out for him, Charlie." Sirius said and Charlie rolled his eyes, Sirius couldn't blame him for it. "Sorry to be the one to tell you, mate, but he's made advances and I've told him no."

Sirius watched the sting come and go on Charlie's face, and it was obvious that long practice had taught him to hide this pain and to let it go.

"Yeah, well." Charlie shrugged and then his tone changed. "Harry's interest can be fickle, lights quick and burns quick. Every bloke thinks that he'll be the one to get in there and make a place for himself. But Harry's got Voldemort in his head, and sometimes for him, I think, three's a crowd. I know this...and I'm here until it's over. Just wanted you to know."

The pub was dirty in the sort of way that made your skin itch and frequented by an equal mix of solitary drinkers and easy-going partiers. It was also the kind of place that kept your secrets, and Sirius had known the minute he stepped through the door that he could ask every person there if they knew of Rookwood and they would feign ignorance even _after_ he sat down next to them. So, they had taken their seats in a dark corner and ordered his firewhiskey straight, hoping that the alcohol would kill any germs that clung to the inside of the spotted glass.

Sirius didn't feel ill at ease, in fact, he hadn't felt out of place anywhere in years, but he had never really felt at home either. Across from him, Harry wasn't faring so well. He was under the guise of one of Sirius' polyjuice potions. Sirius felt a flare of his former prankster causing laughter in the back of his mind, Harry Potter on an Order mission. Dumbledore and Molly Weasley, and probably Remus would lose their mind if they knew. But they didn't know, in fact, only Sirius knew, although Mad-Eye had almost certainly guessed.

Outside of the pub, Mad-Eye and a team of four other Aurors, including Nymphadora were lying in wait. No one else in the Order knew they were here. Sirius had not informed Dumbledore of this trip, he had learned the hard-way that the Order of the Phoenix was by no means immune to betrayal. The seal on his decision had been the discovery that Severus Snape was 'working' for the Order, under the guise of a spy. It was a boyhood rivalry that left a bitter taste in Sirius' mouth regarding Snape, but beyond that—spies traded in only one thing: deceit. Sirius had done enough of that kind of work himself to know it is a small step from one lie to the next.

Harry, was tapping the marred wood of the tabletop with his fingers anxiously, and generally fidgeting in the unfamiliar body. The body, in fact, belonged to a man by the name of Gavin who he had worked with for a few months in Asia. He was a tall, black man whose wiry frame was not alarming despite the broad-shoulders. Harry's green eyes were a deep brown now, but still held the same strange wisdom that Sirius found so unsettling in emerald. Sirius lifted his head and glanced around the pub again, and Harry sighed.

"This isn't very exciting." Harry said, his voice much lower and nearly grave in its baritone.

Sirius shrugged. "Not everything is about dramatics."

Sirius saw something harden across the heavy features and raised an eyebrow. A stony silence fell over them and Sirius repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"What is the matter with you?" Sirius asked his tone far more pointed than he had intended. Fire raged behind the brown eyes and Sirius wanted to laugh. Not quite a man yet, this one. Still so impetuous.

"Don't condescend to me, _Sirius._" Harry's adopted voice twisted Sirius' name out like a father scolding a child.

Sirius leaned his torso across the table bringing his face close to Harry's. "Then don't preen and expect to be appeased at every turn."

Sirius sat back against the hard bench and let his eyes sweep across the room again, still nothing.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry said a hint of both confusion and defiance in the words.

"It means, that I'm sorry, but I don't care that you're the Boy-Who-Lived." Sirius said his voice hushed and registered the shock in the other man's eyes. "You've been through a hell of a lot, and sure you've got a dash of humility. Certainly more than I had at eighteen. But you do have expectations, even if they are only subconscious. I don't put on the kid gloves. I deal in honesty and call it as I see it."

The long body across from him settled back in defeat, or thought, Sirius wasn't sure which.

"How do you see it then?" Harry asked.

"You're smart and you've learned how to take what you can get. You're used to taking orders from any number of people, your relatives, Dumbledore, Remus, and your friends even. But you've got enough of your father in you that you take the orders, and it humiliates you. Your problem is that you've come to expect a certain amount of handholding and sugarcoating. You are used to being handed a wide range of forgiveness for the poor choices you make."

The brown eyes stared down on Sirius and he wondered if this was easier for Harry to hear in someone else's body, it was certainly easier for Sirius to say it.

"I didn't ask for this." Harry said and Sirius was momentarily startled by the intensity of the anger behind the statement.

"No, you didn't." Sirius said his voice even. "But you got it. You lost a hell of a lot and have a heavy weight on your shoulders. No one denies that. But you weren't the only one who lost everything that night. I loved your father like a brother. And Remus too, not to mention the hundreds of others whose families were destroyed. You didn't ask for it and it isn't fair, but that's life."

Harry looked down at the table and his shoulders slumped. Sirius felt a shred of guilt at his hard words, Remus would have done this better. But Remus had been around him for years, and hadn't said a word. Sirius noted when Harry straightened his shoulders and saw the determination in the other man's eyes.

"I don't play games. You're so desperate to not be treated like a child and yet you puff out your chest and have silent angry tantrums." Sirius said taking a sip of the drink he held. "Why not behave like an adult and make your complaints known civilly?"

Silence fell between them again and Sirius looked at the door but no one had entered the pub for at least fifteen minutes.

"Why do dismiss this—" Harry motioned between them. "—So easily? I know you feel it. I felt it when you kissed me."

"First of all, you kissed me both times. Secondly, we've had this conversation." Sirius responded easily draining the last of his drink. "And finally, you have a boyfriend."

"Who says he's my boyfriend?" Harry's eyes held no sarcasm and it surprised Sirius.

"You're telling me he's not?" Sirius responded incredulity making its way into his tone.

"Charlie…he's…it's complicated." Harry said taking a sip from his own glass, looking away in what Sirius imagined he thought was a coy way, but on this face only seemed superfluous.

Sirius looked at him carefully but was distracted when the door opened and a short, somewhat plump witch with long brown hair entered the pub and took a seat at the bar. _Ah, won't be long now._ He looked back to Harry.

"You see, that right there. I don't want complicated." Sirius shook his head and watched the witch at the bar.

"He comes and goes, works out of the country." Harry responded his eyes boring into Sirius'. "It's not like we're married."

"Mmm. And he doesn't mind that you're putting those lips to use with others?" Sirius asked turning his eyes back to the witch who was speaking quietly with the bartender.

"Wouldn't know, I never asked." Harry said his tone falsely casual. "He'll be leaving headquarters soon enough."

Sirius didn't respond, he wasn't a particularly upstanding gentlemen with the men he was with, but Harry's utter lack of connection to his and Charlie's relationship startled him. He looked again and noticed the bartender and placed two drinks on the bar in front of the woman.

"Lets go to the bar." Sirius said, and stood without waiting for Harry to respond.

They wove their way through the crowd and Sirius pushed himself up to the bar beside the plain witch. He ordered another firewhiskey and felt Harry at his side. When the glass was in his hand he turned to the witch. She was unremarkable in every way, features that were too soft for her round face, hair long and lanky and falling artlessly around her shoulders. Her eyes were a pale blue and held hardly a spark of interest in them.

"Hello." He said in her direction drawing the word out. She glanced up and her eyes widened as a blush crept across her cheeks.

"'Lo." Her meek voice was barely audible in the din of the pub.

"I'm Caleb." He said smoothly.

"Sandra." She responded with an awkward smile.

"Sandra, beautiful name for a beautiful face." Sirius responded his voice dripping with sugar. She laughed and Harry coughed lightly behind him.

"My friend and I, were trying to settle a bet." Sirius said playfully. "We were wondering if you could assist us."

She nodded slightly her eyes filled with caution, worry that Sirius was mocking her. In a way, he supposed he was.

"Well, I was just saying that you were here looking for a good man, and Andre, here, said that you were waiting for the one you'd already found." Sirius let the words slide off his tongue watching her as she watched him.

She smiled and it made her almost pretty. "Sorry, my boyfriend should be here any minute now."

Sirius sighed dramatically and shook his head. "Ah, well, can't blame a bloke for trying."

She blushed a deep crimson and Sirius winked at her before turning from the bar, Harry following him closely. This time they chose a table more to the center of the room and Sirius returned his eyes to Harry.

"What was that about?" Harry asked.

"Just establishing our 'when'" Sirius said.

"By going up to talk to her?"

Sirius nodded. "People are predictable. Even in insanity and power-lust they are predictable, the past will always give you an insight to the future."

"But, couldn't we have known that because she ordered two drinks?" Harry asked and Sirius felt his smile grow a bit.

"Perhaps," He said patiently, "But watch her."

They sat for a moment just watching the woman as she drank heavily from her own dirty glass downing the first drink and then the second rather quickly. She was nervous, it'd been a long while since she'd seen Rookwood.

"Oh." Harry said quietly.

Sirius nodded. "You have to be careful not to take what you see and make it into what you want it to mean. My thoughts went with yours at first, but it wasn't definite and we can't risk staying too long and being recognized the next time if he wasn't going to show."

Sirius caught Harry's look again and sighed.

"Look, Harry. I've got my own complications. Things you don't need drug into." Sirius said and ran a hand through his hair. "As flattered as I am, it's probably not a good idea for us to go that path."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're getting back with him aren't you? Remus."

Sirius shook his head. "It isn't the point."

"That means yes." Harry put out petulantly; it was not attractive.

"That means…" Sirius said slowly. "I do not owe you any explanations."

The door slammed shut and Sirius looked up and felt the automatic smile form on his face.

"Game time."

Augustus Rookwood entered the pub like it was his private domain, and made his way quickly to the bar where a drink was set for him almost immediately. He put his arms around Sandra and swallowed his drink as they chatted their hellos. Sirius waited five minutes and then nodded his head toward Harry. The other man hesitated a moment before griping the table tightly and violently overturning it.

Sirius stood quickly and drew his wand as Harry drew his.

"You're a liar, a damned liar." Harry's voice rang out, deep and intimidating.

"And you're a fool. I'm telling you your witch is straying and you pull your wand on _me_?" Sirius exclaimed noting from the corner of his eye that Rookwood had stood from his place at the bar and taken a couple of steps toward him. He glanced over to give the man a full view of his face, and then looked back to Harry.

"How do _you_ know?" Harry asked flinging the words out with so much malice Sirius was sure they were fueled by their earlier conversation.

"Oh, I _know_." Sirius said with innuendo and Harry flung out a spell that missed by a mile shattering a glass about ten feet away.

And then: "Sirius Black?" Came a voice laced with confusion and disbelief.

Sirius turned and fired the spell off immediately. _Stupefy._

Augustus Rookwood fell to the ground and there was a roar of general discontent and then the door flew open and Mad-Eye Moody stalked in with his team following him. Mad-Eye bound Rookwood and barked at another Auror who promptly grabbed Rookwood's hand and disapperated.

Sirius turned to Sandra O'Leary and raised his wand, she screamed. _Obliviate._

There was a fire burning its way through Sirius' nerves when they arrived on front stoop of Grimmauld Place. Harry's disguise had begun to fail only moments before their departure and the brown eyes were starting to shift back to their natural green. They walked through the door and instantly heard the shouting.

"I'm going to kill that man—" It was Molly's angry screech followed by the bang of a pot.

"Now, Molly, I'm sure they were just out shopping or the like." Remus sounded as if this was only one round of many that he had already been through and also like he didn't believe a word he was saying.

"Dumbledore said _expressly_ that he was not to leave!" Molly continued ranting and Harry hesitated in the foyer.

"Come on now, sounds like it's all my fault anyway." Sirius said with a laugh and wandered into the kitchen.

Molly's back was to them as they entered and she was gesturing at Remus with a spatula. Remus sat casually in his chair, facing her and raised his eyebrows when he caught sight of them. Charlie Weasley was there as well watching the door and a storm brewing in his eyes. Molly spun on her heels and pointed the spatula at them, her face red and set with anger.

"Where in Merlin's name have you two been?" She screeched her face going redder. "Dumbledore said—"

Sirius laughed and it was an abrupt barking sound that caused Molly to quit her rant and stare.

"Mrs. Weasley, neither you nor Dumbledore are my mother. I will go where I please, when I please and do not need anyone's permission to do so." He said and slid his gaze over to Remus who understood instantly what was coming and shook his head before looking away.

"That may be true, _Mister_ Black." Molly responded shortly, "But Harry—"

"Harry is eighteen! He can very well make his own decisions." Sirius shot out. "And you'd do well to appreciate the fact that he helped round up an escaped Death Eater today."

Silence, complete and utter silence. And then Charlie's chair crashed to the floor and he stood.

"You took him…" Charlie's face was hard as stone, and Sirius crossed his arms across his chest. "You took him…on a…"

Sirius shook his head. "I didn't _take_ him _anywhere_. He _came _with me. Apparated all by his lonesome too."

Sirius cut his eyes to Harry who had returned to himself and stood looking unrepentant in clothes that were now too baggy on his slight frame. He turned his eyes back to Charlie and wasn't surprised when the other man raised his fist. Sirius caught it before Charlie found his mark and twisted the wrist behind him. He pushed the other man forward and pinned him against the wall, Charlie's twisted arm, and his own between them. He leaned close and whispered in Remus' ear.

"You may be fifteen years younger and big tough dragon trainer, but if you hit me, it will be the last time you use that hand." Sirius said his grip tightening on the other man's wrist. "He isn't a child, I'm not going to treat him like one. You shouldn't have a problem with that, seeing as you're the one sharing his bed."

Charlie used his other hand to push off from the wall and slam back into Sirius causing him to stagger and release him. Sirius took a step back and watched as Charlie turned, he could see the anger mixed with embarrassment in his eyes.

"I'll be informing Dumbledore of this." Molly said her voice low and angry.

"If you must," Sirius said and walked out of the room.

Come on skinny love, what happened here?

We suckled on the hope in lite brassieres

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Sullen load is full, so slow on the split

And I told you to be patient

And I told you to be fine

And I told you to be balanced

And I told you to be kind

And now all your love is wasted

Well, then who the hell was I?

Cos' now, I'm breaking at the britches

And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?

Who will fight?

Who will fall far behind?

Soundtrack: Bon Iver- Skinny Love

So...Thoughts?


	7. Clocks

Sirius hadn't spoken to anyone that morning, he hadn't seen Remus and Harry was once again off at Hogwarts with Albus for who knew what reason. The rest of the Order members who came and went at the house, didn't know what to make of Sirius. They all knew his past, and they all knew of his career in France and some of his other excursions around the world. By the time he was dressed and on his way to the Ministry he had determined that the place between pity and fear was a lonely one.

He presented his name and wand to the registrar at the front desk and let them scan him for any dark artifacts and then taking his wand and his visitor's badge, followed the directions he was given to the office of Alastor Moody. Sirius imagined he would have been able to find it without the directions as Mad-Eye's voice echoed down the halls. He approached the door to the office and paused.

"Even if Merlin himself were to walk in here right now and tell me it were true, I still wouldn't believe a word of —." Moody's voice boomed.

"Now, Alastor, I hardly think that's the message you want to be sending to the Minister." A lofty female voice put in, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

"The Minister would do well to mind his own, and stay outta my bloody way so I can do my job!" Alastor returned and from the thud that followed Sirius imagined something had been thrown. Sirius bit back a laugh, Moody reminded Sirius of Andre, or perhaps it was the other way around.

"_Sirius Black_," His name came out of the woman's mouth with disdain, things were certainly getting interesting. "is kin to near-to half of the escapees. The last thing _your_ department needs at this moment is to found to be friendly with those tied up with the dark arts."

Sirius leaned against the doorframe and smiled a bit. England never changed, the Black name preceded him everywhere.

"Sirius Black was once an Auror in training in _my _department. He's spent near-to half his life fighting the dark arts, and spent the last three tracking down dark wizards who've decided to take up exile here in England."

"Irregardless…" The woman responded sounding not a little flustered, "The Minister has determined that he doesn't want him involved in this investigation."

"Sirius Black was the one who apprehended him. The Minister didn't appear to have a problem with THAT." Moody said, and Sirius shook his head. "Now, if you'll get outta my way, Sirius Black has been waiting outside for you to finish smearing his name for a while now."

It took a great deal of restraint for Sirius not to laugh at that moment, but he managed. The door swung open and Sirius stepped back just in time to avoid being hit by it. A thin blonde woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties stepped out and gave him an accusing look.

Sirius tipped his head to her, "Madam."

The lady flushed a little but regained her stony demeanor quickly enough. "Well, I never." She huffed and made her way down the hall. Sirius stared after her watching the quickness of her step and waiting, _one, two and, _she turned to look back at him and then snapped her head quickly back around when she saw Sirius still looking.

"Black!" A shout came from inside the office, "Get in here already, I don't have time for dallying."

Sirius laughed then and made his way into the cramped office, it reminded Sirius of his own back in France. Organized clutter, maps and photos on the walls. Sirius took a seat across from Moody and raised an eyebrow.

"Still getting along with your superiors, then eh?" Sirius gave Moody his best charming smile.

"Bunch of daft—" Alastor mumbled under his breath as he stood to gather some paperwork. "Rookwood is in the interview room, I'll take you down and then I've got to run and make an appearance in courtroom five and be back. Lookin' forward to watching you work."

Sirius stood as well and offered a nod as they exited the office. He glanced over at Alastor as they made their way down the hallway towards the interview room. Moody had been one of the few men Sirius had held an unfaltering respect for when he was younger and Sirius sometimes regretted not having finished his training with him.

"What you eyein' me for there Black?" Moody said with the barest hint of humor in his tone. "I've never been swayed in your direction."

Sirius laughed outright at that. "Oh and have there been many offers?"

Moody's magic eye swung around to Sirius and Sirius laughed again. As they came to the interview room Moody placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"Look, everyone knows what happened all those years ago." Moody said his tone serious and blunt. "And I've never put much stock in bloodlines one way or another, and I want you to know, I don't believe a word of what's going 'round. I was sorry to see the back of you when you went off and I've got respect for the work you've done."

Sirius nodded, not sure if he should say thank you. Alastor turned and made his way down the hall and Sirius turned his eyes to the door of the interview room. Through the glass he could see Augustus Rookwood sitting at table, his face carefully arranged into a mask of disinterest. Sirius watched him for a moment more, taking in the perfect purebred posture. For a man who escaped Azkaban, he appeared to be rather alert. Sirius opened the door and went in. He didn't look at Rookwood, instead walked around behind him. He noted the way that Rookwood stiffened and straightened his spine. _Defensive, but that's to be expected._

Sirius took his time making his way around the table to sit opposite of the man. His hair was dark brown, eyes a pasty color of green, emotionless. Carefully practiced expression on his face, revealing nothing, which meant he had something to hide. _Again, not a surprise. _His face was worn, and he looked older than he should, but a place like Azkaban could do that to a man. Small scars marred the skin of his face, and his features were overlarge, and seemed out of proportion with the frailness of his frame. Sirius adjusted himself in the chair. Rookwood's hands were palm-down on the table in front of him, just far enough apart for Sirius to be aware that his hands were magically bound. His shoulders were squared, his head held straight and slightly inclined. _Pureblood sophistication. _But he didn't meet Sirius' eyes, so Sirius waited.

Minutes went by, Sirius didn't speak and sat unmoving one leg crossed over the other lounging in his chair, and kept his hands resting in his lap. Finally, Rookwood met Sirius eyes and Sirius recognized the question in the formerly empty green ones.

"I'm Sirius Black." He his tone flat, not a greeting, not a pleasantry.

Sirius noted that Rookwood's lips tightened. "I'm aware of who you are."

Sirius nodded, of course he did. Probably frolicked with Regulus, or perhaps killed him. Sirius reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a creased folder. He opened it, it was Rookwood's file, nothing in it that Sirius didn't know but he glanced through it anyway.

"What can you tell me about Rudolphus LeStrange?" Sirius asked his eyes still on the parchment.

"I know of him." Rookwood responded, and his voice was tight with disdain.

"Know of him?" Sirius asked looking up. "You don't know him?"

Rookwood didn't respond and Sirius shuffled some papers. "Says here that you were in the same class at Hogwarts, both in Slytherin."

"Maybe." Rookwood returned.

"Just curious." Sirius said clasping his hands together and letting them rest on the table. "You would have spent 7 years in the same dorm, seems a little odd that you only _knew of_ him."

Rookwood's eyes narrowed, and Sirius smiled internally. He recalled what Andre had told him when he had first started work as a Profiler. _Get them to agree to something, anything. Get them to admit to three things, doesn't mater if you know for sure the answer. Because once they start admitting—they start forgetting what they don't want to say._

"So, maybe I know him." Rookwood ground out.

"Good mates?" Sirius asked casually, nothing threatening in his tone. Rookwood didn't respond immediately and Sirius let him mull it over.

"Good enough." Rookwood said and Sirius nodded.

"Good enough for a pint or two but not going to stand up at his wedding, eh?" Sirius said his tone light.

"I suppose." Rookwood said and turned his head away.

"What can you tell me about where he is now?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing. I don't know where he is." Rookwood said and if Sirius hadn't seen his pinky twitch he might have believed him.

"Any idea where he might go?" Sirius asked making a note on a piece of paper that was completely inconsequential.

"No." Rookwood replied and his pinky twitched.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Sirius asked as he stood from his chair. Rookwood looked up surprised and suspicious.

"No." He replied.

Sirius nodded again, "Give me just one moment."

Sirius made his way to the back of the room where the second door was located. He pulled it open and entered the viewing room. He glanced at the window, which was invisible from inside the room. Mad-Eye was already there, watching Rookwood. He glanced over at Sirius.

"Doesn't seem like he's talking much." Mad-eye said dryly.

Sirius laughed a little and poured himself a cup of coffee. "No, not yet."

Sirius glanced back into the room as he took a sip from the cup, Rookwood was staring at the door Sirius had exited through. But his posture had not changed.

"You ready to see how we do it in France?" Sirius asked.

"A bit cocky, Black, aren't ya?" Moody smirked.

"Ah, no. I'm just good at my job." His response raised a small laugh from the crowd.

Sirius moved toward the door and reentered the interview room. Rookwood diverted his eyes almost immediately when Sirius opened the door. Sirius made his way back to the table and sat down taking another sip of his coffee. He was quiet for a moment and then he reached inside of his jacket pocket and withdrew a vial of clear liquid. He set it down on the table between them and looked at Rookwood.

"The Ministry doesn't approve of the use of Veritiserum in interrogations, anything you get from that will be tainted." Rookwood said with an edge of delight.

Sirius shrugged. "Good thing I don't work for the Ministry then, at least not this one."

Rookwood looked at him as if trying to decide if Sirius was lying.

"Besides, you've already been convicted. The Ministry doesn't need another trial to cart you back to Azkaban." Sirius said.

Rookwood's eyes hardened but Sirius could see the fear lurking in them.

"Seems the dementors are back on board, and their bindings have been secured." Sirius said, "Nothing like a mass breakout to make people take a harder look at the security measures."

Rookwood moved his right hand ever so slightly, and Sirius saw the imprint his sweating palm had left on the table. _I've got you now._

"But at least you won't be so lonely this time around." Sirius said and shuffled through his papers, looking for the one he knew he'd need. He waited as he read it over.

_One. Two. Three._ "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, they haven't told you?" Sirius asked raising his eyes to meet Rookwood's, there was anger in the green eyes now.

"Told me what?" He asked shifting in his seat, he moved his left hand and the sweaty-hand print dried slowly.

"Miss O'Leary was brought in this morning, aiding and abetting an escaped convict." Sirius said sliding the paper over to him. It was an excellent copy of a Ministry warrant, excellent and fake. Sirius didn't know for certain if the Ministry would care much about Sandra O'Leary, but Rookwood did, so the rest was all decoration. Sirius could envision Moody laughing as Rookwood's hands shook as he picked up the paper.

"She hasn't anything to do with this." Rookwood's voice was low and mutinous.

"Oh, but you put her right in the middle of it didn't you?" Sirius took another casual drink.

Rookwood stared at the paper, the requested sentence was listed as 2 to 5 years in Azkaban.

"Where can I find Rudolphus LeStrange?" Sirius asked again.

It was quiet but for the subtle crinkle of the paper Rookwood was holding.

"I don't know." Rookwood said his jaw tense and eyes contradicting him.

"Well, I'll just be going then." Sirius said standing and reaching over to take the parchment from Rookwood's hand but his grip only tightened.

"She hasn't done anything wrong." Rookwood's anger had morphed into something else, fear.

Sirius shrugged, "Well, that's not for me and you to decide." He stood and made it to he door before he turned back to Rookwood. "Or is it?"

Rookwood's body tensed. "What will you give me?"

"You give me Rudolphus LeStrange and I'll make sure your little woman spends no more than a year in a containment facility." Sirius said, Andre's voice rang in his mind. _Never give away the farm on the first go._

Rookwood looked at Sirius, he bit down on his bottom lip briefly.

"When we got out, we were told to split up." Rookwood said and Sirius enjoyed the sound of the defeat in his voice.

"By whom? Voldemort?" Sirius asked and Rookwood laughed.

"Voldemort may have helped with the escape, but he doesn't give orders in that fashion." Rookwood said. "Peter Pettigrew. The simpering bastard climbed the ranks while we were all holed up in hell."

Sirius nodded and looked at his sheet of paper schooling his features, he would find Peter, and he would kill him. But now was not the time.

"So where did Rudolphus go?" Sirius asked.

"He told me that if I needed to find him, to send him an owl under the name Advere Mont. Said once I sent the letter he'd meet me on the muggle side of Kings Cross, platform 15." Rookwood said and Sirius watched his body, he wasn't lying. But he wasn't telling everything he knew.

Sirius sat back and nodded and pulled a blank piece of parchment from the folder and a self-inking quill. He placed them on the table in front of Rookwood.

"Write him a letter, please." Sirius said and walked across the room to stand in front of the disillusioned window. He smirked at Mad-Eye and then pulled a package of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. He blew out the smoke lazily and watched Rookwood from the corner of his eye. He watched him pause, hesitate, and then continue writing. _Not good._

He continued smoking and then moved over to sit back down. Rookwood slipped the parchment across the table and Sirius looked at it.

_Rudy,_

_Need to speak. I'll be waiting._

_Rook_

It was the waver on the 'y' of Rudy that made Sirius suspect. He stood taking the letter with him.

"Glad you've been so cooperative." Sirius said and headed toward the door. "As soon as we've got LeStrange I'll send the order through to have her sentence changed."

Sirius pulled open the door and Roowood's chair squeaked. Sirius turned and Rookwood's eyes met his.

"Can't you just have her released?" He asked. _Desperate men will do desperate things. They'll never tell you the truth when there's still something to be bargained for._

"That depends, do you want to rewrite your letter?" Sirius responded holding the parchment out. He waited and Rookwood nodded. Sirius handed him a fresh piece of parchment. There was no hesitation and Sirius glanced at it when Rookwood returned it to him.

_Rudolphus,_

_Need to speak. I'll be waiting in the filth._

_Rook_

"Good man." Sirius said. "I'll sign the release papers myself."

Sirius looked at Rookwood and noted the slight twitch at the corner of his eye.

"Nobody else would agree to this deal, the Ministry is all about making examples these days." Sirius said with an air of nonchalance. "You're lucky I've got people who owe me favors."

He pulled the door open and the chair squeaked again. Sirius turned again.

"The LeStranges are like wolves. Wild-worn and travel in packs." Rookwood said carefully. "Bellatrix is nothing but madness anymore."

Sirius nodded and entered the viewing room. He was surprised to see the room had gained several more occupants, one of whom was his cousin Nymphadora. Mad-eye was in the same position watching through the mirror. He turned to Sirius and nodded.

"Well done, Black." He said and Sirius smiled.

"Not quite done." Sirius said nodding at the window. They watched as Rookwood seemed to rock in his chair for a moment before standing. He kept his hands out in front of them not daring to test the magical bonds and moved across the room to the door to the viewing room. He pounded the door and Sirius smiled again.

Sirius moved to the door and spoke loudly. "Back up, Rookwood."

Sirius glanced at Moody who nodded that Rookwood had indeed backed up. He pulled the door open and entered the room again.

Rookwood was standing now, his eyes still carrying the defeat and desperation from their conversation.

"Malfoy." He said the word rushed.

"What do you want for information on Malfoy?" Sirius said easily.

"Low-security." He responded.

Sirius tilted his head. "Not a fan of the dementors?"

Rookwood didn't say anything.

"All right." Sirius said after a moment. "Give me a lead on Malfoy and I'll give you low-security."

Rookwood took a deep breath. "Narcissa and Rudolphus had an affair."

Sirius raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Bellatrix has lost her mind, she'll want Narcissa to pay. She'll give you Lucius."

Sirius tilted his head to the side. "She won't believe me."

"Tell Sandra I said to give you the pictures." Rookwood said. "That's all the proof you need."

Sirius laughed then. "You are Slytherin through and through."

"Maybe." Rookwood returned with a sneer and Sirius moved toward him, to his credit Rookwood didn't back up.

Sirius reached out a hand and pulled several hairs from the man's head.

"Thanks for that." Sirius said, leaving Rookwood rubbing his head he made his way back to the door.

He conjured a vial and placed the hairs inside of it before he opened the door. The viewing room was filled with chatter when he entered, and he approached Mad-Eye.

"Well, that was certainly interesting." Moody said with an awkward grin. "Mind if I let the young ones pick your brain a bit?"

Sirius shrugged and followed Moody and the rest of the Aurors out into the hallway and down into a large room filled with tables. Sirius remembered it as one of the classrooms from back when he was in training. The aurors wandered in and took their seats, some of them looking bored others looking at him with a strange mixture of piqued interest and reverence. And then there was Nymphadora who looked at him from under her wild pink hair with nothing short of pride. Moody stood at the front of the classroom his magical eye swinging wildly about the room. Sirius sat on the table in the front of the class his feet swinging an inch above the ground.

"So, questions then?" He asked and watched as a few tentative hands came into the air.

He pointed at a mousy looking man, who couldn't have been much out of Hogwarts. "Why didn't you use the Veritserum? Wouldn't it have been easier?"

Sirius smiled, and looked about the room. "Anybody have any idea?"

No hands were raised and Sirius nodded, "It could have been easier, but Veritiserum is best used in situations where you know specifically what answers you're looking for. If you don't have a carefully planned interrogation the conversation can get a bit muddled and you can end up with a lot of useless information."

Sirius let it sink in and watched as a few of the aurors conjured quills and parchment and began taking notes. "Also, interrogations are nearly entirely about bargaining. Why do you think Rookwood chose to talk of his own will rather than force my hand with the Veritiserum?"

A hand came up, it was attached to a burly man whose wide frame seemed nearly too much for the chair he sat on. "Because you could have asked him anything on the Veritiserum, and he wouldn't have been able to bargain with you at all."

Sirius nodded, "Exactly. Veritiserum takes away choice completely. He's a man who knows he's going back to Azkaban and there are things he still wants."

Another hand came up, a blonde woman with short-cropped hair and pale blue eyes. "Don't you think it's a bit unethical to lie about his girlfriend?"

Sirius tilted his head. "I suppose it could be seen that way. But the goal in this is to return mass murderers to prison. The way I see it, it's a bit more unethical to let murderers run free. Also, Rookwood is still a prisoner, escaped or no, and as you all are surely aware, interrogatory tactics are highly different when dealing with a prisoner than when dealing with only a suspect. I could have beat him within an inch of his life and still been within the realm of legality."

"Why didn't you?" A male voice shouted out from the back of the room.

"_Honestly, _Tatum. He's a bloody Death Eater." It was Nymphadora who responded. "And a Slytherin, he wasn't going to talk unless he got something out of the deal. I doubt the pain would have been much of an encouragement."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "I've never much approved of physical violence as a technique, people will tell you whatever you want to hear if you torture them enough and it doesn't make it true."

"You think people would lie under torture? I don't see how that's possible, everything we've read in training says it's harder to come up with a lie while under duress." Another female voice argued at him.

Sirius turned to Moody and raised an eyebrow, Sirius watched the slow smile spread across the older man's face. _Mad-Eye always did love a demonstration._

Sirius laughed and turned back to the gathered aurors, "Anyone care to test the theory?"

The burly man had volunteered, his name was Mark and he said he had a high tolerance for pain, but he tensed when Sirius informed the class that pain wasn't necessarily the only method of torture. Sirius moved the desk at the front out of the way and sat a single chair in the center of the open space. He told Mark to sit down and with a quick flick of his wand bound his arms and legs.

Sirius conjured a sheen of thick cloth and wrapped it around Mark's head covering his eyes. Sirius flicked his wand again and sent a freezing charm that struck Mark in the chest, within seconds he was shivering, and his teeth were clattering. He stood silently and watched as Mike's skin took on a paler hue and the man began drawing short, rapid breaths.

"The freezing charm. Anyone want to hazard a guess as to why I chose this one?" Sirius asked turning back to the rest of them.

"Because although it doesn't directly injure the person, prolonged usage can cause pain as the sweat glands freeze and cause irritation to the skin." A quiet voice spoke up and Sirius turned to the man who had auburn hair and thick glasses with a nod.

"A thousand pins and needles." Sirius said. "Now, who is Mark's partner?"

Nymphadora raised her hand fearlessly. _Perfect. _Sirius moved across the room quickly and stood beside her.

"How long have you known him?" He asked and she looked at him with confusion.

"Since Hogwarts." She responded dully.

"Friends?" Sirius asked and she nodded. Without any warning Sirius grabbed her around the shoulders and hauled her violently from the chair. She flailed and caused the chair to over turn making a loud crash.

"Sirius—what the bloody—." She started but let out a whoosh of air as he wrenched her arm behind her back and pressed her against the wall. Holding her in place with one hand he flicked his wand and the blindfold fell off of Mark's eyes. His face was tense and his lips had gone blue, his eyes directed at where Sirius and Nympadora were.

Sirius quickly bound Nymphadora and dragged her across the room letting her fall with a thud at Mark's feet. There was the fire of anger and embarrassment in her eyes and her hair flashed a brilliant shade of red.

"Mark, tell me where to find Lucius Malfoy." Sirius commanded his voice hard and cold, Mark flinched.

"I do—don't know." Mark said his eyes falling to Nymphadora, his teeth banging together.

"No?" Sirius asked, and pointed his wand at Nympadora. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know." Mark responded more forcefully. Sirius shrugged

"_Desumo._" Sirius said and Nymphadora cried out as the electric current struck her.

"Where is Lucius Malfoy?" Sirius asked again and Mark's eyes widened, he didn't know Sirius and had no way of knowing if he'd stop before Nymphadora was actually hurt, for once his crazy family's reputation worked in his favor.

"I don't know." Mark repeated and Sirius sent the curse at Nymphadora once more. Mike's face was pale and Sirius could see the lines of pain around his eyes.

"Where is Lucius Malfoy?" Sirius asked.

Mark hesitated. "I don't know."

Sirius shrugged and sent the curse, Nymphadora shouted again and banged her head against the floor with a crack. Mark flinched, Sirius did too but it didn't show.

"Where is Malfoy?" Sirius asked.

Mark shook his head and Sirius sent the curse again. Nymphadora's body jerked and her face connected with Sirius' steel-toe boot. Her nose began to bleed and she shouted out again.

"You're taking this too far Black!" Mark shouted angrily. Sirius looked to Moody who shrugged impassively.

Sirius pointed his wand at Nymphadora again, she had gone very still on the floor and her hair had faded to a dark black. He winked at her and she narrowed her eyes.

"_Des-." _Sirius began but Mark stopped him.

"He's…hiding out…. in the basement of the Hogs Head!" He shouted sounding desperate, his eyes glued to the blood smeared on the floor beside Nymphadora's head.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and flicked his wand to remove the freezing charm and the magical bonds. Mark stood shakily and moved to Nymphadora releasing her and healing her nose. Nymphadora's head switched back to her normal pink.

"Mark, you great idiot!" She said standing. "It was only a bloody nose!"

Sirius laughed. "Now, anybody want to go see if Malfoy is really in the basement of the Hogs Head?"

Later that evening Sirius was back at Grimauld Place. People were milling about but he had wanted some solitude, he sat in what had once been his mother's private parlor and drank, staring into the flames of the fire. He was running fighting off memories of a not-so-distant past, hell if he was honest, he'd been doing nothing but running since he'd taken off from this very house when he was sixteen. _Some Gryffindor_, he thought to himself. He'd left his parents home instead of staying and coping with Orion's abuse, Walburga's insults and Regulus' steady decline into apathy. He had run from his friends when his loyalty had been questioned instead of facing the look of insecurity and apology in their eyes, and everywhere he went it seemed there was a new horror, a new pain, that uprooted him and sent him searching blindly for anonymity and tempered solace. He had thought he'd found it in Paris, and then Remus Lupin had shown up looking just as Sirius felt inside, tired, world-worn, scarred and lonely. Remus had shaken loose something inside of Sirius, the wall that he'd built to keep his memories at bay had begun to crack and crumble. Their tentative truce and familiar camaraderie made Sirius recall what having a friend was like, and he had begun to realize how much of his life he'd never told to anyone.

The memories he was fighting now had nothing to do with Remus, or England at all. But of far darker times, times that made Sirius' brain revolted at the thought of. It had been triggered by the seemingly innocent display for the benefit of the Aurors, the proving of a point that Sirius had learned from experience and not from a softened down demonstration. The memories had coming crashing down around him as Mad-Eye's aurors had wandered aimlessly out of the room offering praise and introductions, Sirius had struggled to hold on to his composure under Mad-Eye's knowing look.

His hands shook now, and he could feel the sweat from his palms slicking the glass he held. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound of his own screams, screams that had been torn from him when all his pride and defiance had been stripped a way. Jeers and insults sent at him in a language he barely understood echoed in his mind and the sole voice speaking in rapid French, the cold merciless tone of betrayal and pleasure in it felt tangible, as if he could feel the warm breath on his neck.

_Joli petit garçon qui joue héros._ [Pretty little boy playing hero].Even in his memories the pain seemed real, and the scars on his back burned with it. _Vous auriez dû rester en Angleterre. _[You should have stayed in England]

Gerard was supposedly a French auror, Sirius had met up with him somewhere in the middle of China. He was doing some freelance work for the French, looking for a few dark wizards who had made an attempt on the life of the French Minister. Gerard was his contact with the French and as it had turned out, a traitor.

_Du moins, c'est votre guerre. _[At least, that was your war.]

He had been kept in a dingy hovel, in the wild for some fourteen days before the Chinese has shown up and dragged him barely conscious out of there and shipped him off to France where he was offered a position in the Auror department for his trouble.

_Joli petit garcon._ Sirius shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the memories but they stuck. He hadn't lied to the aurors when he'd said torture would make liars of anyone. And sometimes, if you lied and they believed it they would let you alone. It was when they didn't want _anything_ but to cause you pain that you would find yourself speaking the most damning truths completely unasked for, hoping that something you would say would be worth enough for them to stop, all of your darkest secrets, all of your sins. It was another form of torture, a worse form, this desperate baring of your soul. The only reason Sirius could sleep at night was the knowledge that he had watched Gerard and the four Chinese wizards executed and all of his shame had died with them. _Joli petit garcon._

Sirius ran a finger across the surface of the round stickers on his chest. They were about two fingers wide, bright yellow with little happy faces on them. He had been sitting at Kings Cross, below the sign for Platform 15 for two hours. Muggles were scattered about wandering back and forth between the train and newspaper kiosks, it was still early enough that the station wasn't crowded with the commuters yet. Sirius took another long drink from his flask and cringed, Rookwood tasted worse than most. He touched the stickers again. In India, Sirius had spent nearly four years as a bodyguard for a wealthy young heir. Indian bodyguards use portkeys like breath mints; the spells are more advanced than a simple_ portus._ The modified spells are used to transport attackers directly to cells in their MLE office and are triggered by a word rather than a timer. The important thing was to make the portkey something that could be forced upon the attacker, touching their skin. The man Sirius had trained under had used tiny pins similar to that which a seamstress would use, driving them an inch deep into the attacker. Sirius was a little less violent with his, the other bodyguards had laughed the first time Sirius had used one of his stickers.

Sirius glanced at the clock, another hour gone by. He raised the flask to take another drink when suddenly an old woman walked past him, her overlarge handbag clipping the end of the flask and sending the contents spilling across the ground. Sirius stood abruptly and turned toward the woman who didn't even look back. Sirius took a deep breath and damned old ladies everywhere. He was turning to leave before the potion wore off when he caught sight of Bellatrix. Luck would have him miserable, it would seem.

The LeStrange brothers were at her side, looking every bit the part of the escaped convicts. Their faces pale, their bodies emaciated and eyes deep pits of emptiness. Bellatrix was another matter entirely, she looked like madness incarnate. Black hair frizzed and nearly standing on end, her eyes jumping from side to side as if processing everything and recognizing nothing, her once aristocratic features were overlain with a twisted darkness and her lips turned into a violently crazed sneer. Sirius stood up to greet them.

"What's the password?" Rudolphus scratched out his voice rough and dirty sounding and Sirius cursed Rookwood silently.

In the span of a few seconds Sirius' well honed senses told him he was out of time and he reacted a mere moment before Rabastan fired off a spell, peeling a circular smiley face sticker off of his jacket he reached out, sticking it to the skin of Rudolphus' forearm.

"Activate." Sirius said pressing his fingers down upon the sticker. He released his hand and Rudolphus was suddenly pulled away. He felt the subtle changes of the polyjuice wearing off just as he turned toward the others. He managed to get his shield charm up just in time to deflect Rabastan's curse, out of the corner of his eye he saw Bellatrix disappearing behind one of the stone pillars but Rabastan had stayed to fight. Rabastan got two shots off at Sirius, one of which was Snape's charming cutting spell, his anger at losing his brother evident in his contorted features and aggressive wand movements. Sirius shot out an incarcerous and then lifted his hand and shot the same spell wandlessly, and silently. Anger never served one well in a fight and one of them hit their mark. Bellatrix was too busy sending a river of curses at him to notice that her brother-in-law had fallen and Sirius ducked and ran to reach Rabastan's bound form. He pulled off another sticker and placed it with a slap on Rabastan's forehead.

"Activate." And Rabastan was pulled out of view as well.

Sirius was breathing hard as he took cover behind one of the pillars and could feel the blood trickling down his right calf, and was beginning to see what Andre had meant when he'd said that Sirius couldn't save the world on his own, that his reckless abandon when it came to his own life would get him killed one day. During his five years working for the French Ministry, he'd refused every single offer, plea and order for him to take a partner. Andre had said it was a foolish sense of honor and bravery, which made him willing to take risk with his own life and not with anyone else's. The stone pillar behind him reverberated with the force of a spell and chunks of the heavy cement went flying around him. Sirius had told Andre he was a Gryffindor through and through, Andre hadn't understood and eventually had shackled him to a desk.

Sirius listened to Bellatrix's insane laugh echo throughout the platform and tried to use the sound to locate her.

"Little baby Sirius," Bellatrix sang. "Come out to play with Cousin Bella."

The voice came from his left maybe twenty paces and back.

"Remember how much _fun_, we used to have?" Bellatrix said, Sirius remembered what Bellatrix's idea of _fun_ was.

Her voice was muffled, she was still behind the pillar. Sirius would wait her out, he silently sent his patronus with a message out to Moody. And then heard her make her mistake, _click click click._ Bellatrix and her high-heeled shoes. Sirius rolled to his right, ignoring the pain that rippled up his leg, and came to the right side of the pillar. _Click, click._

"Come out, come out wherever you are." Bellatrix sang, Sirius leaned forward and caught sight of her standing alone in the middle of the now-deserted platform. Her eyes were searching and she smiled at something off to the left. Sirius took her moment of distraction and broke into a run, he fired his spells off in quick succession, _incarcerous, incarcerous, incarcerous, incarcerous, incarcerous_. The last one hit her and he raced forward as she fell and pulled the final sticker from his jacket, wrenching her wand from her hand and slapping the sticker in her palm.

"Activate." Sirius said and Bellatrix laughed as she disappeared. Sirius felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, he swung around and took a step backwards just in time to catch the flash of blonde hair and the bright red light of the reducto spell before the ground in front of him exploded.

For a moment he thought he'd actually proven Andre right and gotten himself killed, there was nothing but darkness around him and his ears rang with the absence of sound.. It wasn't for several moments that the pain came, tiny tendrils of shooting pain up and down his back, arms, legs and in his head. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on what he was seeing, dust lots of dust. He moved his legs and they seemed to be working. It took a great effort but he managed to push himself to a sitting position and then he heard the voices.

"Black!" It was hard to tell if Moody's tone was concerned or irritated. "You alive somewhere?"

Sirius could taste the bitter tang of blood on his tongue, "Nah, Mad-Eye, but I decided to hang around as a ghost just to keep you company." He shouted out, his head throbbing with every word. Several heavy footsteps echoed across the pavement and then Mad-Eye followed by Nymphadora and four other aurors appeared in front of him.

Sirius took it from the look on Nymphadora's face that he looked about as bad as he felt.

"Blowin' up train stations without backup a common thing over there in France?" Moody ground out.

Sirius laughed weakly, "Malfoy was here, send him the bill."

He held out his hand and Mad-Eye pulled him to his feet. He stood for a minute as the world spun and then settled.

"Tonks, Smith" Moody barked out. "Get Black to Mungo's. The rest of you secure the perimeter."

Nymphadora and the small mousy looking man moved toward Sirius but he waved them off. "I'm going home for a drink and a bath."

Mad-Eye fixed him with a stare that in training had made Sirius want to apologize, it'd lost its affect on him since. "You need treatment Black, and I need to know what happened here."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm not a fan of hospitals."

"I don't give a rats arse if you're a fan." Moody said and Sirius smiled when the aurors around him flinched at the tone. "You're going to the hospital and then we're going to talk about how three prisoners simply appeared in the containment facility."

Sirius laughed again. "I don't work for you, Mad-Eye."

Moody's face contorted and he opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius turned on the spot and seconds later fell to the ground on the step of Grimauld Place barely conscious and gasping for breath.

Sirius stared at the rough concrete and through the haze of pain in his head he marveled at how different the stone looked from his current position. The adrenaline of the fight and surprise of the blast had worn off and the full extent of his injuries burst through his nerves, making it hard for him to breathe. He couldn't remain on the step, he struggled to his feet, an old friend's voice whispered in his mind, English heavily accented in Chinese. _The body is slave to the mind, will it to act and it has no choice but to obey. Rise above the distraction of pain._

He wavered dangerously on his feet and glanced down at the concrete and for a moment felt a passing fear as he took in the pool of blood that remained. He put his hand on the door handle and let the weight of his body force it open. He stumbled through the door barely managing not to fall again. It was an excruciating journey from the entryway to the stairs, he made it to the first landing, feeling as though each breath was being ripped from his lungs. Tiny black dots began swimming in his vision and he felt himself falling, the slow inevitable forward tilt of his body. He heard the crack of his head against the stairs and then nothing.

The lights go out and I can't be saved  
Tides that I tried to swim against  
Have brought me down upon my knees  
Oh I beg, I beg and plead singing

Come out of things unsaid  
Shoot an apple off my head  
And a trouble that can't be named  
A tiger's waiting to be tamed singing

You are  
You are

Confusion never stops  
Closing walls and ticking clocks  
Gonna come back and take you home  
I could not stop that you now know singing

Come out upon my seas  
Cursed missed opportunities  
Am I a part of the cure?  
Or am I part of the disease? Singing

Soundtrack: Coldplay- Clocks


	8. Beneath Your Beautiful

Sirius had a habit of remembering things immediately before he woke up, Cai, a humbled old Chinese man, a friend of his Uncle Alphard's, had once told him that it was a warrior's trait. Where most people woke up and were momentarily confused and disoriented, warriors woke up _knowing_ and prepared to act. He recalled the fight with the LeStranges, Malfoy's explosion, his smart comments and Moody's face, he remembered the blood on the concrete and he remembered the stairs rushing up to meet him, and then he opened his eyes. Merlin be damned, he was in St. Mungo's. He knew it was St. Mungo's by the overly clean smell, and the unimaginably ugly puce colored walls. He sat up and there was a dull throb in his head and a swift ache in his ribs, which he ignored. He looked around and the room was empty. _Good. _Sirius stood and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and took out his freshly laundered clothing. He was tying his left boot when the door to the room swung open. He didn't look to see who entered, he finished tying his boot and stood up. He took a minute to let his body settle before pushing away the lingering pain and dizziness and then turned and headed for the door. He didn't look at him, but he caught the messy black hair out of the corner of his eye. He was only a few steps from the door when strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm.

"Sirius." Harry said and Sirius could tell by the raspy tone that he'd been here all night.

He tried to jerk his arm away from the grip but Harry didn't let up. Sirius spun to face him.

"Let go of me, Harry." Sirius said a cold condescension intentionally dripping from the words.

"No." Harry said. "You need to stay."

Sirius wanted to laugh at the audacity, but he didn't, for whatever reason, he didn't. He wrenched his arm free and stared into those alarmingly green eyes.

"I don't care if you're here out of some misguided crush you have, I don't care if you're here because you're the one who dragged my bleeding ass into the floo in a fit of heroics." Sirius said taking a step closer and noted that it was a fight for Harry not to step back. "You are not my father, my mother, my boss, _or_ my lover. I owe you nothing, the world over and fate itself may owe you. But I owe you nothing. I will not remain in this hell hole, despite what you may deem necessary."

Harry did take a step back then, even went so far as to raise his hands in surrender. It was just like Remus, those raised hands and that damn placating look.

"Sirius, you're ill." Harry said softly, and with an unnatural gentleness.

"I'm fine. A little sore, a little dizzy. Nothing a few home brews can't fix." Sirius retorted and started to turn, but Harry's hand was on his arm again. Sirius jerked his arm away.

"Bloody fucking hell!" Sirius shouted as he turned once again and Harry flinched. "Let me alone! I'm going home."

"No, you aren't." Sirius closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He turned around slowly and opened his eyes. His eyes glanced over Remus who looked tired, more so than usual and Minerva McGonagall, looking precisely as stern as ever.

"The Calvary I assume?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

A bare touch of a smile turned up one of the corners of Remus' mouth. "Yes."

"I'm _fine_!" Sirius said. "Minnie, good to see you and all, but you can't give me detention for this. I've been worse off then this before and recovered just fine, _without_, a damn hospital. So, thanks for the lovely visit but I'm going."

The door swung open again and Sirius stopped and stared. "Andy?"

Andromeda Black, well…Tonks. Beautiful like all the Black women, but her features were not nearly as severe, Sirius used to tease her that it was because she smiled on occasion. They had come to see him in France a few times. They had written letters and sent gifts. But it was a distant relationship and he hadn't gone to see her since he'd been back.

Sirius turned to Remus. "I think this is overkill, mate."

Remus didn't respond, nobody responded. Sirius shook his head and turned to look at Andy.

"Andy, I'm fine." Sirius said in his best, _please Mommy_ tone.

Andy wore heels everywhere, just like Bellatrix, just like all the Black women, with the notable exception of Nymphadora. The heavy heels clicked loudly on the linoleum. She stepped up to him and brought a delicate hand to rest on his cheek.

"Sirius…" Sirius looked down into her eyes, deep dark brown, there was worry there, more worry than his injuries should have meant. "You aren't fine."

Sirius let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "I am. Good-bye now."

He pushed past her and had opened the door when Andy called out.

"Your ill, Sirius." Her voice echoed and he turned a retort ready on his lips. "You've probably been ignoring it for months, or maybe a year. Sometimes you get dizzy, your head hurts and your muscles ache. You find that you get tired sooner than you used to, and small injuries are harder than they used to be to overcome."

Sirius stared at her the somberness and certainty in her tone was chilling.

"I'm fine." Sirius said.

"You aren't." Andy said and once again moved toward him, Sirius closed the door and leaned back against it keeping his hand on the knob. "The family calls it' Ursula's Curse, the healers have taken to calling it that as well. It's hereditary, carried through the male line."

Sirius felt a strange sense of panicked calm envelope him, "Alphard…"

Andy nodded.

"But he…he was fine for years." Sirius said.

"None of the men in the Black family make it much past 80, Alphard was almost 50, his condition was aggravated by spell damage." Andy responded her tone clipped and detached, she and Alphard had remained close but she hadn't been allowed at his funeral.

Sirius only nodded and the room was silent for a long moment. He looked at them they all looked so damn sad and suddenly without warning laughter bubbled up in his chest and spilled out. Andy looked at him with pity, Minnie with sad disapproval, Remus with concern, and Harry with confusion and Sirius just laughed.

"You're telling me…" He took a breath. "You're telling me I have the Black plague?"

Nobody else laughed. "I'm wearing the Masque of the Black Death?"

"Sirius…" It was Remus and his calm tone.

"At least I won't be leaving a Black Widow."

Minerva wanted to smile, Sirius could tell and the laughter just kept coming.

"Sirius Orion Black…" Andy imitated his mother perfectly.

"What Andy, surely you can appreciate a bit of Black humor." He gave her a wink, but she had arranged her face carefully.

"Sirius…you need to stay here, there are treatments—." Andy continued but Sirius was looking at Minerva and wondering if she was supposed to be the bad auror in this scenario.

Sirius waved Andy's voice off. "I get it. It's bad."

"The symptoms are going to get worse without some sort of treatment." Remus put in.

Sirius nodded. "Sounds lovely."

"Mr. Black." Finally, Minnie spoke up and Sirius looked at her. "Things have changed since your Uncle died, if you'll just stay and talk to the healers."

Sirius sighed. "I'm going home."

And without another word or giving them time to argue, he turned and left the room.

He passed a large desk and several healers came running after him shouting. Sirius kept walking until he made it to the floo. He stepped in looked back as Remus, Minnie, Andy and Harry caught up to the healers. He grabbed a handful of their complimentary floo powder from the stone basin to the side and tossed it into a fire. Stepping in he caught Minerva's expression, he smiled, he'd seen that look before. It was the same look she'd given him in Dumbledore's office over twenty years ago.

"Coeur de la bête." He said and closed his eyes as the floo spun.

International flooing was unpleasant under normal circumstances, and when he stepped out of the floo in Andre's office it took a great deal of self-control not to vomit on the dark blue rug. When he finally opened his eyes, he found Andre sitting behind his ornate cherry wood desk. A single eyebrow raised and a piece of paper in his left hand.

Sirius moved over and sat down in one of the plush chairs across from his former boss. It was a minute before Andre moved at all, finally setting the paper down and folding his hands together in front of him.

"It would seem you've been busy." Andre said his heavy accent always made his English seem dramatic and distinguished.

"Perhaps." Sirius responded, he looked at Andre, he seemed tired and a little frayed, the creases around his eyes seemed deeper and his hair was touched with a bit more grey than when Sirius had last seen him. "You look like hell, _patron_."

Andre laughed and it was a grateful sound. "Ah, Sirius, you always had a way for comedy."

His odd English sentence structure was something of a character trait that Sirius found amusing.

"Been running around Gryffindor in England too then?" He asked as he bent to open a drawer behind his desk bringing out a bottle of Firewhiskey that Sirius had given him for Christmas the previous year, and two glasses. Ever since Sirius had tried to explain his behavior to him, Gryffindor had become somewhat of a replacement for _rogue_ in Andre's vocabulary.

"Only just a bit. Got blown up yesterday." Sirius responded accepting the glass that Andre offered and taking a long swallow.

"Oh really?" Andre said with a smile, "And the ends justified the means, of course?"

"Caught three of the escapees." Sirius said taking another drink.

"How many left to you?" Andre asked standing and moving to sit in the chair opposite him.

"Just two." Sirius said.

"The one who exploded you, eh?" Andre said with a knowing look.

"Perhaps." Sirius said with a slight smirk.

"Always, perhaps, is it. Courageux?" Andre said, the term of endearment caught Sirius off guard. Andre only used it immediately before giving him bad news. He sat a bit straighter.

"What is it, Andre?" He asked his eyes grazing over the tired look on Andre's face.

"Three of your teams never returned from England." Andre said rubbing the silvery stubble on his chin. "We cannot locate them, even on your map."

"But that means…" Sirius started but Andre finished for him.

"Mort."

Sirius sighed and took another deep drink.

"There will be a service, a mass memorial." Andre said. "Next week, you will speak for them, yes?"

"Of course." Sirius said.

"They all respected you greatly." Andre said finishing the last of his drink.

"They respected you too." Sirius offered.

"Perhaps," Andre offered a small smile, "But they would have died for you, the competition to work for you was fierce. Every man wants to be led by the best."

Sirius shook his head, "I'm not-."

"Sirius, you are a legend here." Andre said raising his eyes. "Which is why I need you back for a week or two. Marc has big shoes to fill, and it will go a long way to make things smoother if the others know he has your blessing."

Sirius nodded, "Sure, Andre. Whatever you need _patron_."

"_Patron _is it still?" Andre asked.

"Only for as long as you call me _courageux._" Sirius said.

"Ah, forever then it is." Andre replied.

They were silent for a moment and then Andre refilled their drinks.

"So what is it that bothers you?" Andre asked.

"The men…" Sirius started but Andre shook his head.

"It isn't the men, you were running from something when you arrived. And you've been trying to cover it up this whole time." Andre said, and Sirius sighed.

"It's not important." Sirius responded but Andre reached out and laid his hand on Sirius' arm.

"We've been friends, no?"

Sirius looked at him and then at his cup.

"I'm ill, _patron_."

"Not the dragon pox?" Andre said, "Something closer to death?"

Sirius looked up at him giving a little huff at the awkward expression. "Yes, closer to death."

Andre nodded. "Do they have a name for it?"

"Ursula's Curse, they call it." Sirius responded.

"They have a fix for it?" Andre asked and Sirius shrugged.

"Didn't hang around long enough for the healer's explanation."

"How'd they get you to a hospital?" Andre asked.

"Dragged me there when I was unconscious."

"I should have knocked you out myself a time or two." Andre said. Sirius shook his head.

"They say there are some treatments, my uncle died of it nearly twenty years ago, but…" Sirius let the sentence trail off.

"Sirius, what happened when you returned from China, I know it cannot be forgotten. But not all healers will betray you." Andre said rolling his now-empty glass between his palms.

"Healers are human." Sirius responded.

"And betrayal is human nature, is it?" Andre asked.

"Perhaps." Sirius replied darkly.

"What a lonely life, trusting no one."

"Better lonely and alive, than trusting and not." Sirius said.

"Ah, well, but it seems in this situation you may be lonely and dead because of your paranoia, yes?"

When Sirius didn't respond, Andre sat silently watching him. A soft knock came at the door and then it opened. A pretty brunette appeared.

"Monsieur Fluerant, Auror Devon arpente devant mon bureau encore-oh Monsieur Black, beau pour vous voir." [Mr. Flurant, Auror Devon is pacing in front of my desk again, oh, Mr. Black lovely to see you.] Her face turned a lovely shade of pink when she noticed Sirius.

Andre smiled and stood. "Merci, Danielle."

The secretary smiled brilliantly in Sirius' direction before closing the door.

"She was quite distraught to learn you weren't returning. Not that I understand, it's no secret of your preferences." Andre laughed and Sirius joined him.

Sirius stood and offered his hand to Andre who took it and held it between both of his.

"It would be a shame, my friend, after all you have survived for you to go quietly into death." Andre said and Sirius nodded vaguely.

"Send me word about the service and when you'll need me to return?" He asked.

"Of course, be safe, _courageux._" Andre said as Sirius made his way back to the floo.

Sirius did vomit this time when he stepped out of the floo at Grimauld Place, but at least it was his own rug that he vomited on. He cleaned himself up, grateful that no one else seemed to be there. He made it up the stairs and to his bedroom without running in to anyone, he might have been concerned at the emptiness of the place, but he was too damn tired to care. He stripped off his t-shirt and boots and collapsed onto the bed.

The light brush of fingertips across his back woke him a few hours later, he remained still and kept his breathing even as they traced one of the long scars. As they moved and began to trace a second one, Sirius turned quickly catching the wrist and twisting it painfully sideways, Sirius raised an eyebrow as Harry sucked in a breath.

"Molesting me in my sleep?" Sirius asked and a tinge of pink rose on Harry's cheeks but he didn't respond but for a slightly defiant rise of his chin. "Whatever would your dragon keeper think?"

"He was never mine." Harry said tightly.

"Not for a lack of trying on his part." Sirius responded gripping Harry's wrist tighter. "What is it you want from me Harry?"

There was no response but for the glint of frustration in the younger man's eyes. The skin of his hand where it met Harry's tingled and Sirius' blood seemed to pound in his veins. Remus had always said that he regarded temptation as an open invitation, and though his rational mind's objections whispered quietly, Sirius ignored them. Sirius wanted a distraction from it all, from the damned disease and the men that he'd been unable to protect, his men who Andre said were willing to die for him. He wanted a distraction from the memories of China and the scars that Harry's fingers had traced just a moment before. With a sudden jerk Sirius pulled Harry onto the bed and rolled on top of him, delighting in the surprised lust in the deep green eyes.

"Is this what you want?" He asked dropping his voice to a low whisper as he pushed his hand down between their bodies and gripped the waistline of Harry's jeans. Harry didn't say anything. "Silence is equal to consent you know."

He brought his head down and met Harry's lips with his own, Harry responded almost immediately by lacing his fingers into Sirius' hair. The kiss was violently passionate, and Sirius gloried at the warmth of Harry's tongue on his. He slid his hand up under Harry's shirt feeling the hard muscles tense at his touch. Without breaking the kiss, Sirius pulled Harry upwards and gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled his lips away. Harry's eyes had darkened and he took shallow breaths. Sirius pulled his shirt up over his head and then pushed him back down. God, but the man was beautiful. His chest was defined but not overly muscular, his frame slightly stockier than Sirius' but still seeming somehow delicate. Sirius pushed all thoughts of James from his mind as he leaned down placing a trail of kisses along his chest. He hooked a finger beneath the catch of the button on his jeans and raised his eyes to meet Harry's eyes.

"I want to hear you say it." He said his voice heavy and his body straining for more contact, more stimulation. "What do you want?"

"I…" Harry said his eyes searching Sirius' face for the right answer, Sirius flicked his finger and popped the button of his jeans open, Harry drew a deep breath. "You…I want you…"

Sirius pulled the zipper down slowly. "I'm not looking to be romanced, here. What do you want?"

"I want…" Harry was panting now as Sirius' fingers found the edge of his boxers. "…to not have to think, I want to forget."

Sirius smiled and slipped his hand underneath the fabric, bringing his lips to hover millimeters from Harry's. "That, I can help you with."

Sirius pressed his lips against Harry's and felt the vibration of the younger man's muffled moan.

The dawn was breaking when Sirius awoke again, he pulled his arm from beneath Harry's sleeping weight and sat up. Harry looked even younger in sleep, and Sirius felt a bit lecherous watching him. He pulled the sheet up higher to cover the lightly tanned sink of Harry's chest and brushed a lazy piece of hair back from his face. After a moment he stood and located his boxers and jeans in the chaos of clothing on the floor. He pulled them on, his eyes drifting to the sleeping man. The memories of last night were vivid in his mind, the softness of his skin, the smell of their commingled sweat, the way their bodies had seemed meant to fit together, two puzzle pieces of a larger picture. He smiled a little as he stretched his arms, there was something to be said for youthful energy. He picked up the rest of the strewn about clothing and folded them before placing them on the bedside table. He went to the armoire and located the small black box at the bottom. He pulled on a clean t-shirt and left the room quietly.

The house seemed to still be asleep and Sirius was grateful for it. His head still throbbed and his ribs sent a sharp pain through him with every breath. He gripped the box tighter to his chest and made it down the last few steps with only a single hiss of pain escaping. He entered the darkened kitchen and went directly to the sink, the pain in his head growing steadily and making his eyes water. He set the box on the counter and opened it, inside the small box reveled a magically enlarged space with hundreds of glass vials lined up, a few missing here and there. Sirius raised his hand and noticed it was shaking just a bit, he located and removed three separate vials. He pulled them out and closed the box. Turning on the water, he filled each vial with a bit of water, and watched as the dried ingredients were kicked up at the bottom. He re-corked each vial and held them in one hand shaking them as he lit the stove and then went and filled a small pot with water. He carefully placed the vials in the water and placed the pot on the stove to boil. He lit a second burner and flinched when he grabbed the teapot, it was already heated.

"Your skills of observation are baffling, Padfoot." Sirius spun around and his vision swam blurry for a moment.

"Remus." Of course Remus was already up at bloody dawn. "I hope you didn't wait up for me."

Remus lifted his glass of tea and took a drink , a raised eyebrow was the only response he offered. Sirius turned and made himself a cup of tea before returning to watch over his potions.

"That's a handy trick, the just-add-water effect." Remus commented from behind him, "How does it work?"

"It doesn't always," Sirius responded watching as each of the vials began to thicken and change color. "Certain potions are much to finicky. But with most, you can simply brew the potion correctly the first time, use a dehydration spell, bottle it and then…" Sirius waved a hand in the direction of the pot.

"Very smart." Remus said, James had called it his Professor Moony voice. Sirius cringed as James' name came into his mind, he thought about the naked man in his bed. _Oh, James…you would have murdered me for the thought alone._ "Did you come up with it?"

Sirius laughed a bit. "Hardly. The Chinese have done it for centuries."

"When were you in China?" Remus asked.

"For three years before I went to France." Sirius said. "Alphard had a friend there who let me crash in his barn in return for help around the place." _It was true, but not the whole truth._

Remus didn't say anything and Sirius took the pan off the stove and did a cooling charm on the water before reaching in and pulling out the potion vials. He opened the first one, dark blue with a bit of a shimmer, and drank it in one go. It was foul, they all were—tasted worse with the dehydration spell. He felt the pain in his had recede almost immediately. He took the second blue one and the pain was entirely gone. The final one was a sickly yellow color, and Sirius took a deep breathe before drinking it down. Burned its way through his through and muscles, Sirius could feel them tense and relax almost instantly. He rinsed the vials and then returned them to the case before finally moving to sit down across from Remus.

"Do you always self-medicate?" Remus asked.

"Yes." Sirius took a drink of tea, not caring that it scalded his tongue.

"Sirius—about yesterday…" Remus started but didn't seem to know what to say.

"Leave it be, Remus. I'll deal with it how I like." Sirius responded the anger from yesterday bleeding into his tone.

"Are you so selfish Sirius, that you would have us all watch you die?" Remus asked his tone cold.

Sirius said and stood up. Not wanting to talk about it, not wanting to think about it. What right did Remus have to say anything anyway?

He left Remus in the kitchen and made his way back up to the bedroom. He felt a guilty sort of peace at the knowledge that Harry was sleeping in his room. It was a superficial sense of having someone to come home to, he hadn't had that since Remus and he had shared the flat together, and even then it wasn't the same.

Sirius pushed the door open and closed it behind him quietly. Harry had turned onto his stomach, his face was buried in the pillow, hair stuck up in disarray, the sheet had slipped down to his waist and Sirius took in the scars that littered his back. Some of them were barely visible, pencil thin white lines, others were wider nearly an inch, there was a patch of skin that looked like a burn scar. Sirius thought about his own scars. _Merlin, _but they were both so damaged.

Harry wouldn't be up for another few hours, it was barely after five. Sirius ran a hand across his face and crossed the room. He shrugged on his jacket and pulled on yesterday's socks and his boots. He took one last glance at Harry and then left the room.

Once he was outside the house he apparated and found himself at the gate of Godric's Hollow Cemetery. He walked up the rock path, his hands in his pockets taking in the quiet of the place. Six rows back and two over, he wandered over to the large granite stone and sat down crossing his legs facing the stone. He picked at the grass and closed his eyes.

"Ah, Jamie, I'm sorry I didn't come before." Sirius said, a deep ache in his heart wishing that his old friend could respond, yell at him, tell him what a stupid prat he was. But there could be no response, so Sirius kept on speaking.

"Everyday I wonder, I wonder what it would have been like…had I stayed. But it wouldn't have been different, only…maybe you would have known that I forgave you. Only maybe I could have forgiven myself." Sirius said and sighed. "Remus is still around, he and I—half of the Marauders and we can barely speak unless we're desperate. But he's still Remus, same old Professor Moony. And I think that's the hardest part, he's so much the same and I…I'm so different."

The wind came and blew the leaves on the trees, Sirius sighed again. "And Harry, Merlin, James, I'm sorry. I don't know what to think or feel about it. I tried to keep my distance, I swear to it. But he's…he's just…I don't know. I don't know what you'd think, I'm sure you'd beat my arse if you were here."

Sirius closed his eyes and a long forgotten memory flooded his mind.

_James sat across from him at a table in some Muggle bar. Remus and Lily were dancing and laughing a few feet away. James seemed to catch something in Sirius' expression that had him smirking in a strange way._

"_You'll find it Sirius." James had said. "You'll find the same love that Lils and I have. Just be sure you don't run from it, making up wild excuses for why you shouldn't care about people is an art with you."_

Sirius had brushed him off then, and now he wondered if he would have given his blessing if he only knew. He opened his eyes and looked back at the stone.

"James…I miss you." He said his voice breaking a bit. He stood and brushed off his jeans and turned on the spot.

He reappeared on the step of Grimauld Place. He pulled open the door and could hear Molly Weasley's distinct voice coming from the kitchen. He took the steps two at a time hoping to avoid any confrontation, he passed Hermione in the hall and she smiled at him.

"Sirius! Good Morning." She said. "I was wondering if you'd seen Harry or Ron around?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "No, I haven't. Sorry."

"No problem, you look well. We'd heard you were injured." She said eying him shrewdly.

"All better now." He said and she smiled.

He waited until she was down the hall before slipping into his room and closing the door. Harry was still asleep. Sirius made his way over to the bed and looked at him closely, he ran his fingers over the scarred skin of Harry's back and traced one the way Harry had done before.

"Molesting me in my sleep?" Came Harry's voice, muffled by the pillow.

Sirius laughed a little. "You started it."

Harry turned over and there was a smile in his eyes. "Hey." He said his voice was soft.

"Hey." Sirius responded quietly, his hand moved without him intending for it to and brushed that same lazy peice hair out of his eyes.

"I need to cut my hair." Harry said raising a hand and running through his hair.

"You shouldn't." Sirius said suddenly and Harry smiled.

Harry took the hand from his hair and rested it on Sirius' cheek.

"Charlie's gone back to Romania. I ended it." He said his voice still carrying a bit of drowsiness.

"Yeah?" Sirius looked away, Harry's hand turned his head back.

"Should we talk about it?" He asked and Sirius sighed.

"Lets not." Sirius responded and brought his lips down to Harry's.

You tell all the boys "No"

Makes you feel good, yeah.

I know you're out of my league

But that won't scare me away, oh, no

You've carried on so long,

You couldn't stop if you tried it.

You've built your wall so high

That no one could climb it,

But I'm gonna try.

Soundtrack: Passenger- Beneath Your Beautiful (Cover)


End file.
